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JULIA  ARTHUR 

As  "  The  Eternal  Magdalene" 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 


A  MODERN  PLAY 

IN 

THREE  ACTS 


BY 


ROBERT  McLaughlin 


Copyright,  1915,  by  Robeht  McLaughlin. 
Copyright,  1918,  by  Samuel  French. 


ALL    RIGHTS    RESERVED 

CAUTION :  Professionals  and  amateurs  are  hereby  warned 
that  "THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE,"  being  fully 
protected  under  the  copyright  laws  of  the  United 
States,  is  subject  to  royalty,  and  any  one  presenting 
the  play  without  the  consent  of  the  author  or  his  au- 
thorized agents  will  be  liable  to  the  penalties  by  law 
provided.  Applications  for  amateur  acting  rights 
must  be  made  to  Samuel  French,  28  West  38th  St., 
New  York.  Applications  for  professional  acting  rights 
must  be  made  to  the  American  Play  Company,  33 
West  42nd  St.,  New  York. 


New   York 
SAJk'IUEL  FRENCH 

PUBLISHEB 

28-30  West  38th  STREET 


London 
SAMUEL  FRENCH,  Ltd. 
26   Southampton   Stbeet 


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DESCRIPTION  OF  SCENE 

The  library  of  Elijah  Bradshaw's  home  in  Eden- 
burgh,  Illinois :  The  room  is  finished  in  dark  wood. 
There  is  a  fireplace  at  right.  Over  the  fireplace  is 
a  large  picture  of  the  Magdalene.  At  left  is  a  long 
bookcase  extending  the  length  of  the  side  wall. 
Over  the  bookcase  is  a  tapestry  panel.  Up-stage  at 
left  of  center  there  is  a  French  window  opening  out 
on  the  porch.  Through  this  window  the  audience 
gets  a  glimpse  of  lawn  and  shrubbery.  At  right  of 
center  an  arch  opens  into  the  hallway  and  reveals 
a  stairway  leading  to  upper  portion  of  the  house. 
The  street  door  opens  at  the  left  of  this  arch  and 
persons  entering  the  house  are  first  seen  to  cross 
above  the  window.  Down-stage  left  there  is  a  mas- 
sive table  used  by  Bradshaw  as  a  writing  desk. 
This  table  is  fitted  with  a  telephone  and  is  cluttered 
up  with  books  and  papers.  There  is  a  large  arm- 
chair at  left  of  table  and  a  smaller  chair  at  right  of 
table.  Another  armchair  sets  well  down  left.  There 
is  a  smaller  chair  between  the  window  arch  and  the 
door  arch.  Down  right  of  center  there  is  a  smaller 
table  with  chair  at  left  of  it.  At  right  of  this 
table  and  adjacent  to  the  fireplace  is  a  long  couch 
facing  up-stage.  Below  this  couch  is  a  settee.  The 
furniture  is  all  of  the  Jacobean  type.  The  room  is 
lighted  by  three  brackets  on  the  back  wall.  The  or- 
naments and  draperies  of  the  room  all  are  in  keep- 
ing with  its  quiet  elegance.  A  hall  clock  is  visible 
on  the  stair  landing. 

3 


7QV 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 
CAST  OF  CHARACTERS 


Elijah  Bradshaw Emmett  Corrigan 

Martha  Bradshaw Louise  Randolph 

Paul  Bradshaw Robert  Hudson 

Elizabeth  Bradshaw Claire  Burke 

John  Bellamy Lowell  Sherman 

Rev.  Birmingham  Smollet Arnold  Lucy 

Judge  Amos  Bascomb Harry  Harwood 

Arnold  Macy Frank  Byrne 

Blanche  Dumond   Lucile  Watson 

Rev.  James  Gleason Alphonse  Ethier 

Dan  Burke E.  M.  Dresser 

Otto Wm.  J.  Phinney 

A  Woman  of  the  Town.  . . Julia  Arthur 


SYNOPSIS  OF  SCENES 

Act     L  Library    of    Elijah    Bradshaw*s    Home, 

Edenburg,  Illinois. 
Act   II.  Same. 
Act  III.  Same. 

Time — The  Present 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 


ACT  I 


Time:  It  is  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  all 
the  lights  are  lit. 

Discovered  :  Stage  clear  at  rise.  Paul,  Bellamy 
and  Macy  enter.  They  have  been  on  an  auto 
trip  to  the  country  club  and  are  dusty  and 
travel-stained. 

Paul.  (Speaks  as  he  enters)  I  guess  every- 
body's at  dinner.     Good  thing  we  ate  out  there. 

Bellamy.  (Off-stage,  a)s  he  is  the  last  to  enter) 
And  a  bully  good  dinner  it  was,  too.  It  was  worth 
the  dust.     (He  brushes  his  coat) 

Paul,    I'm  a  sight,  too. 

Macy.  (Crossing  to  r.)  Don't  mention  it.  Look 
at  the  Illinois  real  estate  on  me. 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  L.)  No  wonder  the  way 
you  hit  it  up,  Paul.  We  made  it  in  here  in  thirty 
minutes. 

Paul.  (From  up  l.)  Well,  it's  only  eighteen 
miles.  That's  not  so  speedy.  Come  on  up-stairs 
and  we'll  brush  up  a  little. 

(Bess  enters  upper  r.  and  conies  dozvn  c.) 

Bess.     You  boys  are  late.     Dinner's  all  over. 
Bellamy.      Don't    worry.      We    dined    at    the 
Country-  Club. 

Bess.      (Crossing  to   Bellamy)      Selfish.     You 


6  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

might  have  taken  me.     {She  notices  Macy.     Bess 
turns  to  Paul) 

Paul.    This  is  Mr.  Macy — my  sister. 

(Bess  Crosses  to  Macy — gives  him  her  hand) 

Macy.  {Meeting  Bess  c.)  Tve  had  the  pleas- 
ure before. 

Bellamy.    What?     {Glances  at  Macy) 

Bess.     Yes,  indeed,  I  met  Mr.  Macy  in  father's 
office  a  year  ago. 
*     Macy.     I'm  glad  to  see  you've  not  forgotten. 

Paul.  Come  on,  fellows,  if  you  want  to  doll  up 
{Starting  for  stairs) 

Macy.  {Up  r.)  If  you  don't  mind,  old  chap, 
I'll  run  along  to  my  hotel.  After  four  hours  of  golf 
and  that  steeple-chase  ride  home,  what  I  need  is  a 
tub.     {Turning  to  Bess) 

Paul.     How  about  you,  Bellamy? 

Bellamy.  Well  a  whisk-broom  and  a  little  soap 
might  help  some. 

(Bess  crosses  to  Bellamy.) 

Paul.  Just  wait  a  minute,  Arnold,  and  I'll 
drive  you  over  to  your  hotel.  {Turns  to  Bess) 
Sis,  you  entertain  Mr.  Macy  until  I  come  down. 

Macy.  {Crosses  up  r.  c.)  Please  take  your 
time,  won't  you  ? 

(Bellamy  looks  at  Macy  suspiciously.) 

Paul.  Time  enough  to  look  a  trifle  presentable. 
Come  on,  Bellamy.     {They  exit  upstairs) 

Bellamy.  What  size  collar  do  you  wear?  {As 
he  is  going  upstairs) 

Bess.     {Back  to  table  l.)     Won't  you  sit  down? 

Macy.     {Crosses  to  c.)     Thanks.     You're  look- 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  ; 

ing  charming,  as  usual. 

Bess.     I'm  well.    And  you? 

Macy.  Never  better.  I  was  afraid  you  had 
forgotten  me. 

Bess.  No  indeed.  I  often  think  of  you.  And 
the  talks  we  had. 

Macy.     I've  thought  of  you,  too. 

Bess.  You  have  really?  What  have  you 
thought  ? 

Macy.  I've  often  wondered  how  such  a  delect- 
able girl  happened  to  reside  in  such  a  detestable 
town. 

Bess.    That's  simple  enough.    It's  my  home. 

Macy.  What  a  pity.  And  does  the  desire  never 
come  to  you  to  go  away — ^to 

Bess.  (Smiles  sadly)  Never  come  to  me?  It 
never  leaves  me. 

Macy.  But  you  have  been  about,  of  course — 
seen  things,  I  mean? 

Bess.  Yes,  I've  travelled  with  mother  and  father. 
Chicago,  New  York  and — even  New  Orleans. 

Macy.     Indeed — ^you  have  been  a  globe-trotter. 

Bess.  But  trips  like  that  only  make  things  worse. 
After  New  York,  Edenburg  seems  like  a  village. 

Macy.    And  isn't  it  ? 

Bess.  (With  a  touch  of  local  pride)  Hardly. 
It  has  almost  a  hundred  thousand. 

Macy.  (Patronizingly)  Well,  it's  bigger  than 
I  thought.  But  where  do  they  all  keep  them- 
selves ? 

Bess.     Home,  mostly — and  church. 

Macy.  (Crossing  to  table  R.)  From  what  you 
say,  I  assume  that  you  would  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity to  shake  the  dust  of  Edenburg  from  your — 
slippers. 

Bess.  Would  I?  I'd  like  to  have  someone  give 
me  the  chance. 

Macy.     (Bess  slowly  crosses  to  chair  at  r.  c.) 


8  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Chances  like  that  come  sometimes.  But  if  things 
here  are  such  a  bore,  we  can  at  least  do  this.  What 
do  you  say  to  going  to  the  show  to-night? 

Bess.  Oh,  I'd  love  to.  But  I  couldn't  dream  of 
it.  With  this  great  moral  upheaval  in  town,  the 
theater  is  out  of  the  question.     (Sits  in  chair) 

Macy.  Oh  yes,  the  moral  upheaval.  Is  it  really 
as  bad  as  the  papers  make  out? 

Bess.    Worse ! 

Macy.  This  fellow  Gleason  is  a  wonder.  They 
say  he  cleaned  up  a  cool  fifty  thousand  in  his  last 
town.  (Sits  on  bench)  Beats  my  job  of  selling 
bonds  all  hollow. 

Bess.  Sh!  You  mustn't  let  father  hear  that. 
Father  is  chairman  of  the  citizen's  committee.  It 
was  he  who  brought  Mr.  Gleason  to  town. 

Macy.    Jove,  I  had  better  be  careful. 

Bess.  Father  thinks  the  sun  rises  and  sets  in 
Mr.  Gleason. 

Macy.  I  guess  it  does.  He  certainly  gets  them 
going  in  every  town.  I'm  sorry  about  the  theater. 
You  see  I'm  leaving  town  to-morrow,  and — 
(Reaches  over  and  takes  her  hand) 

Bess.  You  don't  mean  to  say  you're  going  with- 
out hearing  Jimmy  Gleason ! 

Macy.  Well,  if  I  stayed,  it  wouldn't  be  Gleason 
that  would  keep  me;  you  see,  there's  another — 
(Paul  and  Bellamy  enter  down-stairs,  speaking  as 
they  come) 

Paul.  Come  on,  Arnold,  I'll  take  you  over  now. 
(Coming  dozvn  c.) 

Bess.  (Rises  with  Macy)  Why  do  you  have  to 
hurry  ? 

Macy.  (Dotvh  r.)  Look  at  me!  That's  the  an- 
swer.    (Indicating  his  clothes) 

Bellamy.  (Coming  down  l.  c.)  Did  you  ever 
try  to  put  a  fourteen  collar  on  a  fifteen  neck? 

Macy.    I've  been  trying  to  induce  your  sister  to 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  9 

go  to  the  theater. 

Paul.  Soft  pedal  on  the  show-stuff  if  you  ever 
want  to  sell  Dad  any  more  bonds. 

Bess.  If  we  can't  go,  we  can  have  a  little  music 
anyway.     (Runs  through  door  down  R.) 

Paul.  Fine !  There's  a  record  on  there  now. 
It's  Poupchon. 

(Victrola  starts,  Bellamy  stands  down  r.  waiting 
to  dance  with  Bess.  Macy  crosses  quickly, 
down-stage  in  front  of  Bellamy.) 

Macy.  Shall  we?  (Bess  nods  approval  and 
they  dance.    As  they  start  Bellamy  crosses  to  r.) 

Martha.  {Entering  doivn-stairs,  coming  down 
c.)     Why,  Bessie!     {They  stop  dancing) 

Bess.  (Dozvn  r.  c.)  Mother,  this  is  Mr.  Macy. 
{Crosses  hnrriedly  through  door,  dozvn  r.  and  stops 
Victrola.  Stands  down  r.  and  talks  to  Bellamy. 
Martha  nods  very  coldly) 

ATacy.  {Dozvn  r.  c.  l.  to  Martha)  How  do  you 
do? 

Paul.  {Dozvn  l.  c.)  You've  heard  of  Mr. 
Macy,  mother.     He  sells  father  securities. 

I\Iacy.     {To  Paul)     You  mean,  I  try  to. 

Martha.    How  do  you  do? 

Macy.  {Nods  to  Martha)  I  wanted  to  see  Mr. 
Bradshaw  and  arrange  an  appointment  for  tomor- 
row, so  Paul  was  kind  enough  to  bring  me  over 
from  the  Club,  but  this  seems  to  be  Mr.  Bradshaw's 
busy  evening,  so  I'll  try  to  catch  him  on  the  phone 
later.  (Turns  to  Bess)  Good  evening,  Miss  Brad- 
shaw.    (Crosses  to  r.  c.)     Sorry  about  the  show. 

Bess.     (Crosses  to  Macy)     I'm  sorry,  too. 

INIacy.    Some  other  time — next  time  I'm  in  town? 

Bess.     Yes,  and  I  do  hope  you'll  call. 

Macy.    Thanks.    I'll  be  sure  to,  (With  glance  at 
Mrs.  Bradshaw)   if  I  may.     (Paul,  Macy  and 


10  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Martha  exit  through  arch,  Martha  and  Macy  go 
out  on  porch  and  stand  in  front  of  wifidow) 

Paul.     (From  center  of  arch)     Oh,  John. 

Bellamy.  (Down  r.)  All  right,  in  a  minute. 
(Paul  exits  to  porch.  Bellamy  crosses  to  r.  c.) 
Say,  Bess,  what's  he  been  saying  to  you? 

Bess.  (Who  has  watched  the  others  out,  turns 
and  crosses  to  Bellamy)  Nothing,  except  that  he 
asked  me  to  go  to  the  show. 

Bellamy.  Well,  he  is  a  pretty  foxy  fellow  to 
have  buzzing  around  the  girl  you  love. 

Bess.    John,  don't  be  silly. 

Bellamy.  Well,  I  am  silly  where  you're  con- 
cerned, and  Fm  going  to  put  an  end  to  it. 

Bess.    An  end  to  what? 

Bellamy.    An  end  to  this  suspense. 

Bess.  Are  you  thinking  of  jumping  off  the 
pier? 

Bellamy.  No.  I'm  going  to  get  up  my  nerve 
and  have  it  out  with  your  father. 

Bess.  Oh,  you'd  better  wait.  You  know  how  he 
is  these  days. 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  c.)  I  don't  care.  I'm 
going  to  put  it  up  to  him  the  first  chance  I  get. 

Bess.  (Taking  hold  of  Bellamy's  arm  and  stop- 
ping him)  John,  I  wouldn't  do  it  now,  it  might 
spoil  everything. 

Bellamy.  (Starting  to  go)  Never  you  mind. 
You  leave  your  father  to  me. 

Martha.  (Entering  from  hall)  John,  John, 
they're  waiting  for  you. 

Bellamy.  All  right,  Mrs.  Bradshaw.  (To  Bess) 
ril  see  you  later — (Exits  through  street  door) 

Bess.  (At  window)  Mother,  Mr.  Macy's  nice, 
don't  you  think?  He  asked  me  to  go  to  the  show, 
but  of  course 

Martha.     (Cautioning  Bess  with  finger)    Sh! 

Bradshaw.   (On  landing  of  stairway)  Asked  who 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  ii 

to  go  to  the  show?     (Comes  down  c.) 

Martha.  Mr.  Macy.  He  asked  Bess  to  go  to 
the  theater. 

Bradshaw.     Macy?    Who's  Macy? 

Bess.  You  know  Arnold  Macy.  You  introduced 
him  to  me  yourself  in  your  own  office. 

Bradshaw.  Because  he  meets  you  in  my  office, 
does  not  give  him  the  right  to  call  on  you  here. 
(Crossing  to  head  of  desk  down  L.) 

Bess.    He  didn't  call.    Paul  brought  him. 

Bradshaw.  Next  time  he  comes,  I  want  to  know 
it. 

Bess.  (Crossing  to  Bradshaw)  Now,  father, 
you  wouldn't  be  rude  to  him? 

Bradshaw.  I'll  tell  him  to  confine  his  affairs 
with  this  family  to  business  with  me  at  my  office. 

Martha.     He  seems  a  nice  young  man,  Elijah. 

Bradshaw.  Young!  He  isn't  so  young.  Be- 
sides, who  is  he  ?  He  may  have  a  wife  and  a  half  a 
dozen  children  for  all  I  know. 

Bess.  (Coaxingly)  Now,  father  you're  cross  to- 
night. (Tries  to  embrace  him.  Martha  gives  Bess 
another  cautioning  glance) 

Bradshaw.  None  of  that  now.  (Bess  crosses 
to  r.  and  sits  on  bench)  I  know  the  world,  and  you 
don't.     (Sits  at  desk) 

Martha.  (Crosses  to  R.  of  desk)  But,  Elijah, 
I  think  that 

Bradshaw.  I've  seen  his  kind  and  I  don't  want 
him  here  again.    Now,  that's  final. 

Bess.  (Pouting)  That's  the  way  of  it.  Shut 
up  here  in  this  house.  Might  as  well  be  in  Sing- 
Sing.  Better,  for  there  are  lots  of  interesting  young 
men  there. 

Martha.     Elizabeth ! 

Bess.  (Picking  up  newspaper)  Jimmie  Glea- 
son !  Jimmie  Gleason !  Nothing  in  these  papers  but 
sermons.    Subject  for  to-night — (Reading)     "  Put- 


12  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

ting  the  devil  into  Hell."  {Still  reading)  "All 
there  is  in  the  Bible  I  am  going  to  preach.  Pll  give 
you  enough  Hell  before  I'm  through!  " 

Martha.     Elizabeth ! 

Bess.     I  was  reading  from  that  sermon. 

Bradshaw.  Well,  don't  read  it  in  that  spirit. 
(Clock  strikes  seven  o'clock)  Seven  o'clock — you 
and  your  mother  had  better  be  getting  ready.  Paul 
will  go  with  you.     (He  busies  himself  zvith  papers) 

Bess.  Come  on,  mother — Father  is  as  cross  as 
an  old  bear.  Let's  give  him  his  den  all  to  himself. 
(They  exit  through  arch  and  upstairs.  Desk  phone 
rings) 

Bradshaw.  Hello,  yes — yes — my  statement — yes, 
well,  I'm  working  on  it  now.  Yes,  have  him  call 
in  an  hour  or  so, — thank  you, — I  have  only  been 
one  of  the  many.  My  only  hope  has  been  to  give 
Edenburg  a  clean  bill  of  moral  health.  I  want  to 
thank  The  Star  for  its  loyal  support.  (Paul  crosses 
porch)  It  has  been  a  great  factor  all  around.  Yes — 
Good-bye. 

Paul.  (Enters  and  hangs  hat  in  hall,  comes 
dozvn  c,  speaking  as  he  comes)  Mother  teils  me 
I  have  to  go  to  the  tabernacle  again  to-night — is 
that  right? 

Bradshaw.     You  certainly  do. 

Paul.  You  know,  I  have  been  there  three  nights 
running  and  I  thought 

Bradshaw.  Never  mind  what  you  thought. 
You're  going  just  the  same.  (Paul  turjis  and 
goes  c.)  You  know  I  can't  go  to-night.  You  must 
go  with  your  mother  and  Bess.  Nice  thing  for  my 
family  not  to  be  represented  at  these  meetmgs,  and 
I  the 

Paul.     But,  father 


Bradshaw.  Now,  that's  enough!  (Paul  starts 
to  exit  down  r.)  I  suppose  your  mind  is  on  that 
leg-show  that's  playing  here!     (Rises  and  crosses 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  13 

belozv  desk  to  c.  speaking)  I  thank  God  for  your 
sake  this  city  is  in  for  a  moral  house-cleaning.  To- 
night every  father  in  Eclenburg  should  be  glad  for 
his  son's  sake.  To-night  we  are  going  to  smash 
the  vice  district  for  all  time.  I  hope  my  boy,  you 
have  never  been  guilty  of  going  down  there. 

Paul.  (Crossing  to  Bradshaw  at  c.)  Father, 
you  know 

Bradshaw.  No,  I  don't  know.  But  I  hope  you 
have  had  more  respect  for  your  mother  and  sister. 
(Smollet  crosses  porch)  No  father  is  sure  of  his 
children;  he  hopes  but  he  isn't  sure. 

Paul.     But  I  want  you  to  be  sure. 

(Smollet  rings  bell.) 

Bradshaw.  There,  see  who  that  is.  (Crosses 
dozvn  stage  back  to  desk  and  sits.  Paul  goes  to 
hall  door) 

Smollet.     (From  porch)     Is  Mr.  Bradshaw  in? 

Paul.     It's  Mr.  Smollet. 

Bradshaw.  Have  him  come  in  here.  (Smollet 
enters  crossing  to  l.  c.  Paul  exits  tip-stairs)  Ah, 
Smollet,  I  thought  you  were  at  the  tabernacle? 

Smollet.  Gicason  and  I  were  on  our  v.-ay 
there.  ^^  e  ran  into  a  lot  of  reporters  up  the  street 
■dnd  they  nailed  him.  (Crosses  to  chair  at  R.  c.) 
He'll  be  along  presently.  We  thought  we'd  just 
drop  in  here  first  and  see  how  you  were  getting 
along  with  your  statement  for  the  papers.      (Sits) 

Bradshaw.  I  am  working  on  it  now.  The  Star 
phoned  me  a  little  while  ago  asking  me  to  hurry. 

Smollet.     You're  making  it  strong? 

Bradshaw.  Rest  assured  of  that.  It  is  the  final 
blow  at  segregated  vice  in  this  city,  and  it  must 
come  straight  from  the  shoulder. 

Smollet.  (Rubbing  his  hands  ecstatically)  What 
a  victory — what  a  victory! 


14         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

BsADSHAw.  Victory,  yes.  (Rises  and  crosses  to 
c.)  But  we  mustn't  give  the  Mayor  a  chance  to 
recant.  We  must  clinch  the  thing  right  now.  We 
must  apply  the  sleep-wallop,  as  Gleason  says. 

Smollet.     (Beaming)     Splendid! 

Bradshaw.  (At  c.)  I  have  written  briefly,  but 
to  the  point.  (Reading)  '*  As  Chairman  of  the 
Citizens'  Committee,  I  desire  now  to  congratulate 
the  people  of  this  community  on  the  great  victory 
they  have  won  over  the  hosts  of  Satan.  The  elim- 
ination of  the  segregated  vice  district  at  midnight 
will  crown  with  success  a  crusade  that  we  have 
waged  for  months  prayerfully,  and  with  God's  he-p, 
potently.  At  the  stroke  of  twelve  to-night,  the 
doors  of  these  dens  of  depravity  will  close  forever, 
and  their  shameless  inmates  will  no  longer  menace 
the  youth  of  our  city." 

Smollet.    Amen ! 

Bradshaw.  (Continues  reading)  "As  head  of 
this  Committee  I  have  been  subjected  to  much  criti- 
cism by  sentimentalists  who  profess  to  believe  that 
these  women  have  certain  rights ;  that  they  should 
be  coddled  and  pampered  and  paraded  as  martyrs, 
I  am  disturbed  by  no  such  convictions.  Prostitution, 
like  any  other  pestilence,  should  be  stamped  out  at 
whatever  cost.  When  a  leper  comes  into  our  midst, 
the  law  does  not  inquire  how  he  came  to  be  a  leper, 
but  it  says  *  banish  him  instantly ' ;  so  say  I  of  moral 
lepers.  I  believe  in  giving  sin  no  quarter;  in  hold- 
ing no  parley  with  evil-doers.  A  clean  sweep  of  the 
tenderloin  has  been  my  goal  in  this  fight  and  I  praise 
God  that  we  have  won.  I  take  this  occasion  to 
thank  the  Mayor  and  members  of  the  Committee, 
who,  to  a  man,  gave  their  best  efforts  to  this  cause, 
and  to  all  others  who  by  their  encouragement  and 
prayers  assisted  us  in  our  fight.  But  most  of  all 
I  want  to  thank  the  great  Evangelist  Gleason 
whose  inspiring  words  have  awakened  this  city  to 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  15 

a  realization  of  its  sinfullness  and  without  whom 
no  such  crusade  as  we  just  finished  so  triumphantly, 
would  have  been  begun."  There!  (Crosses  to 
lower  end  of  desk) 

Smollet.  (Chagrined  at  not  being  mentioned) 
Is  that  all  of  it? 

Bradshaw.  No,  no,  as  I  go  along,  I  shall  re- 
view the  movement  since  its  inception.  (Seeing  the 
disappointment  depicted  on  Smollet's  face)  Oh. 
rest  assured  I  shall  see  that  you  get  the  full  credit 
for  your  part  in  it.     (Crosses  back  of  desk) 

Smollet.  (Brighteyiing)  I  have  done  nothing 
worth  speaking  of. 

Bradshaw.  (Sits)  You,  my  dear  friend,  have 
been  the  real  pioneer. 

Smollet.     (Rises  overwhelmed)     I? 

Bradshaw.  Most  certainly.  That  series  of  ser- 
mons you  preached  last  Winter  set  the  ball  rolling. 

Smollet.  (Protestingly.  Crossing  to  c.)  T  beg 
of  you ! 

Bradshaw.  Have  you  forgotten  your  New 
Year's   Eve  grill-room   expedition  ? 

Smollet.     No — ^but 

Bradshaw.  Your  expose  of  the  dance  halls,  the 
pool-rooms,  the  theater 

Smollet.     My  dear  Mr.  Bradshaw! 

Bradshaw.  Those  sermons  were  the  sparks 
that  set  off  this  town's  moral  magazine. 

Smollet.    I  am  overjoyed  if  you  think  so. 

Bradshaw.  I  know  it.  It  was  your  work  that 
paved  the  way  for  Gleason  and  I  shall  see  that 
the  people  do  not  forget  it. 

Smollet.  (Crossing  to  chair  r.  of  desk)  But 
you — without  you  and  your  great  generosity  it 
would  not  have  been  possible. 

Bradshaw.  You  are  probably  right  there — 
Gleason  doesn't  work  for  nothing,  does  he?  (Mar- 
tha starts  dozvn-stairs)    But  I  have  plenty  and  how 


i6  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

could  any  man  spend  money  to  better  purpose.     I 
don't  regret  a  nickel  of  it. 

Smollet.  {Shakes  hands  with  Bradsiiaw) 
Certainly  not.  This  work  will  be  a  lasting  monu- 
ment to  you.        / 

(Bradsiiaw  sits.     Martha  enters  arch  and  comes 
down  c.) 

Martha.     How  do  you  do,  Reverend  Smollet? 

Smollet.  (Turns  and  goes  to  Martha  c.)  How 
do  vou  do  ?    Are  you  going  to  the  tabernacle  ? 

Martha.     Yes,  we're  all  going. 

Smollet.  I'm  on  my  way  there  myself.  I'm  just 
waiting  for  Mr.  Gleason. 

Martha.  {Brightening)  Mr.  Gleason.  He 
hasn't  been  here  for  a  week.  What  a  wonderful 
man  he  is ! 

Smollet.  Wonderful !  A  human  dynamo. 
{Crossing  to  R.  c.) 

Martha.  He's  tireless.  I  don't  see  how  he 
stands  it!     {Crossing  to  r.  of  desk  l.) 

Smollet.  Neither  does  anyone  else.  I  see  by 
the  papers  that  you  and  some  of  the  other  members 
of  the  Mothers'  Club  visited  the  unfortunate  women 
to-day  ? 

Martha.  Yes,  and  I  am  completely  upset  over  it. 
{Sits  in  chair)  I  told  Elijah  I  can't  make  up  my 
mind  now  whether  we  are  doing  the  right  thing  in 
driving  them  out. 

Smollet.  I  am  surprised.  What  happened  to 
make  you  feel  so  ? 

Bradshaw.  She  has  a  touch  of  that  sentimental- 
ity that  I  refer  to  in  this.  {Indicating  statement  he 
has  just  read) 

Martha.  Call  it  what  you  like.  Perhaps  it  is 
— perhaps  it  is  something  else.  We  talked  to  lots 
of  those  women.    They  are  all  different  from  what 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  17 

I  had  been  lead  to  expect. 

Smollet.     How  different? 

Martha.  They  are  human,  and  I  hardly  thought 
them  that.  Do  you  know,  there  is  scarcely  one  of 
them  (I  .s^ot  this  from  the  women  who  run  the 
places)  who  is  not  supporting  children,  or  an  old 
father  or  mother,  or  sick  relatives. 

Smollet.  Er — ^that  is  barely  possible.  (Sits  in 
chair  r.  c.) 

Martha.  I  ta'ked  to  one  girl.  A  oretty  girl  she 
was.  She  had  brown  eyes  and  hair  and  a  sweet 
face.  "  I  got  into  this  life  rather  by  degrees,"  she 
said,  "  and  if  I  get  out  of  it,  it  will  be  in  the  same 
way."  She  thanked  us  for  offers  of  help,  but  said 
she  couldn't  accept  them.  At  another  house  we 
heard  of  a  poor  girl  who  was  soon  to  become  a 
mother.  We  went  to  the  women  in  charge  of  that 
house  and  offered  to  take  care  of  the  girl.  "  No. 
thank  you,"  the  woman  said,  "  the  Tenderloin  takes 
care  of  its  own." 

Bradshaw.    Umph ! 

Martha.  We  talked  with  her  for  an  hour,  I 
guess.  And  when  we  left  I  invited  her  to  come  and 
see  me. 

Bradshaw.    What,  here? 

Martha.     Surely,  why  not? 

Smollet.  (Alarmed  at  the  thought)  Mrs. 
Bradshaw ! 

Bradshaw.  What  woman  is  it?  What's  her 
name? 

Martha.  (Hesitatingly)  Dumond — Blanche 
Dumond,  they  told  me. 

Smollet.  (Rises  and  crosses  to  c.)  Blanche 
Dumond,  the  most  notorious  woman  in  town ! 

Bradshaw.  And  youVe  invited  her  here?  You're 
going  to  try  to  help  her? 

Martha.  No,  no,  no.  Not  going  to  try  to  help 
Miss  Dumond.    The  girl  I  spoke  of. 


i8  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw.    Umph ! 

Martha.  I  found  Miss  Dumond  to  be  a  remark- 
able woman,  I  thought — bright,  entertaining,  and 
good-looking.  And  she  has  a  warm  heart,  too,  for 
when  she  saw  how  anxious  I  was  to  help  this  girl, 
she  beckoned  me  aside  and  told  me  that  the  girl 
was  not  an  inmate  of  the  house,  but  had  been  given 
refuge  there  in  her  time  of  trouble. 

Smollet.  a  fine  refuge!  Why  couldn't  she 
have  gone  to  a  Christian  institution?  Now,  we 
have 

Martha.  I  spoke  of  that,  and  Miss  Dumond 
said  that  unfortunate  girls  like  this  one  seem  to 
have  an  instinctive  horror  of  such  places. 

Smollet.     A  horror  of  them?    And  why,  pray? 

Martha.  It  is  because,  Miss  Dumond  said,  they 
are  usually  labelled  "  Homes  for  Fallen  Women," 
and  most  girls  she  thought  would  rather  die  than 
walk  in  a  door  under  a  sign  like  that. 

Bradshaw.    Umph ! 

Martha.  It  seemed  to  her  like  tearing  off  the 
last  rag  on  one's  self-respect. 

Smollet.  A  charming  philosophy,  indeed! 
(Crossing  to  r.  c.) 

Martha.  Ah,  but  Miss  Dumond  went  further. 
She  had  won  the  girFs  confidence  and  found  out 
who  her  parents  are.  And  yesterday  she  wrote 
them  a  long  letter,  trying  to  prevail  upon  them 
to  come  and  take  the  girl  home.  (Rises  and  goes  c.) 
I  was  so  interested  I  made  Miss  Dumond  promise 
to  call  and  tell  me  how  it  all  turns  out. 

Bradshaw.  Martha,  Martha.  I  told  you  not  to 
go  prowling  around  down  there.  Those  people  are 
past  help.  Their  sense  of  decency  is  dead.  They 
belong  in  the  pest-house  and  the  sooner  they  are 
sent  there,  the  better. 

Martha.     I  am  not  so  sure. 

Bradshaw.    Well,  I  am. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  19 

Martha.  This  experience  to-day  has  given  me 
a  broader  vision.  I  do  not  consider  that  I  am  any 
better  than  my  sisters  of  the  underworld. 

Bradshaw.     Martha ! 

Martha.  Only  that  I  have  been  more  fortunate 
than  they,  in  that  circumstances  have  not  at  any 
time  put  me  face  to  face  with  the  necessity  of 
earning  my  living  in  their  way.  Because  I  have 
been  spared  such  an  existence,  it  seems  to  me  now 
that  I  should  deal  gently  with  those  of  my  sisters 
v/ho  seem  less  fortunate  than  L 

Smollet.     I  am  surprised  to  hear  you  talk  so. 

Martha.  Perhaps.  But  what  I  say  is  true. 
When  I  look  back  over  my  youth,  I  can  see  now 
there  were  times,  when  if  circumstances  had  not 
intervened,  I  might  have  made  a  false  step — a  step 
that  might  have  lead  to  just  the  sort  of  thing 
I  have  seen  to-day. 

Bradshaw.     Can  you  imagine,  Smollet? 

(Gleason  crosses  porch.) 

Smollet.  Really,  if  you  persist,  you  will  have 
your  husband  curious  as  to  details.  (Gleason  rings 
bell)     Hello,  maybe  that's  Mr.  Gleason  now. 

(Otto  crosses  from  up  r.  quickly,  but  Gleason 
does  not  wait  for  him  to  open  the  door.  He 
comes  in  quickly  and  closes  door.) 

•Gleason.  (To  Otto)  Never  mind,  my  man. 
I  know  the  combination.  (Otto  exits  and  Gleason 
comes  through  arch  briskly)  Hello,  everybody. 
How  do  you  do,  Mrs.  Bradshaw?  -{Shakes  hands 
with  Mrs.  Bradshaw  up  l.)  Ready,  Smollet? 
We're  way  behind  schedule.  Couldn't  shake  those 
newspaper  guys  oflf.  (Crosses  to  back  of  desk  l. 
Mrs.  Bradshaw  crosses  to  Smollet  down  r.  c.) 


20  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Smoll^t.     I'm  ready  any  time  you  are. 

Gleason.  {Slapping  Bradshaw  on  hack)  Well, 
Bradshaw,  to-night's  the  blow-off.  We'll  ring  the 
curfew  on  our  scarlet  sisters  to-night. 

Bradshaw.  Yes,  I've  said  that  here,  but  not  ex- 
actly in  the  same  words. 

Gleason.  Oh,  this  your  stuff  for  The  Star? 
That's  what  I  blew  in  to  get  a  line  on.  {He  picks 
it  up  and  scans  it  hurriedly)  We  don't  want  any 
skim-milk  in  this.  It's  gotta'  be  red-hot,  right  off 
the  griddle.  {He  glances  over  statement  quickly 
and  shakes  head  disapprovingly)  "  Elimination  of 
segregated  vice  district." — "  At  stroke  of  twelve  to- 
night,"— ^too  poetic,  old  pal.  Good — but  too  Ella 
Wheeler!  (Smollet  laughs)  Why  don't  you  say 
*'  Before  morning  there'll  be  a  can  tied  to  every 
every  dirty  door  knob  on  West  Street."  Put  some 
shrapnel  in  it!  {He  reads  further)  And  here — 
{Puts  paper  do7vn  in  front  of  Bradshaw)  never 
mind  about  thanking  me.  Thank  God.  He's  the 
fellow.  I'm  the  guy  that  does  his  advance  work,  but 
I  want  Him  to  get  the  credit. 

Smollet.     {Beaming)     Naturally,  naturally. 

Bradshaw.  Well,  you  see  the  statement  isn't 
finished  yet.  I  shall  bear  down  a  little  harder  later 
on. 

Gleason.  Great !  Don't  weaken.  Stick  the  pep 
into  it. 

Bradshaw.    I  think  it  will  please  you. 

Gleason.  It  will  if  it's  an  inshoot  and  right 
oyer  the  pan.  What  are  all  these  ? — squawks  ?  (In- 
dicating letters  on  Bradshaw's  desk) 

Bradshaw.  No,  most  of  them  are  from  friends 
commending  us.    A  few  are — well,  not  so  friendly. 

Gleason.  (Laughing  and  crossing  to  c.)  Don't 
let  that  worry  you.  You  ought  to  get  some  of  my 
mail.    (All  laugh) 

Bradshaw.     But  did  you  ever  get  one  as  bad 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  21 

as  this?     {He  picks  tip  a  letter) 

Gleason.  {Crossing  to  desk)  Say,  I  get  junk 
in  every  mail  that'll  tie  anything  you  got  there. 
Shoot  it  and  see.     {Sits  in  chair  R.  of  desk) 

Bradshavv.  It's  from  a  girl.  She  goes  on  to 
tell  of  her  clothes  and  things  being  put  into  the 
street  by  the  police,  and  she  ordered  out  of  town. 

Gleason.     Well,  what  about  it? 

Bradshaw.     It  ends  with  a  curse. 

Martha.  A  curse — how  terrible!  {Crosses  he- 
hind  desk  to  L.  of  Bradshaw) 

Gleason.  {Passing  it  off  lightly)  What  does 
she  say? 

Bradshaw.  {Handing  Gleason  the  letter) 
Here,  read  it. 

Gleason.  {Reading)  "  This  town  is  my  home 
just  as  much  as  it  is  yours.  And  I'm  going  to  stay 
here  in  spite  of  you  and  the  police.  I  shall  remain 
here  to  see  your  daughter  ruined  and  your  son  an 
outcast  and  a  thief.  I  shall  remain  here  to  see 
your  wife — {Pause  as  he  turns  page  over)  .torn  from 
you  by  death  (Martha  puts  her  arm  around 
Bradshaw)  and  to  see  you  follow  her  to  your  grave 
deserted,  heart-broken  and  disgraced.  This  is  my 
curse.  That  this  may  come  to  you  is  the  prayer  of 
— Mabel  Mordaunt."  {He  rises  and  goes  to  c.) 
Um!  That  is  a  stiff  one.  {Turns  to  Bradshaw) 
You'd  better  cross  your  fingers. 

Smollet.     {Rapping  on  table)     Or  rap  on  wood. 

Martha.     {Turns  upstage)     It's  awful ! 

Gleason.  {Crossing  hack  to  desk)  Nix,  nix, 
nonsense.  Come  over  and  read  some  of  mine.  Stick 
that  in  your  vanity-box,  Bradshaw.  {Handing  him 
letter  and  starting  for  arch)  Come  on,  Smollet. 
I've  got  to  get  over  there,  you  know  that.  {Stops 
suddenly  and  points  out  window)  Get  a  slant  at 
this,  our  customers  are  coming  in  bunches  now. 
Smollet.      {Starting    toward   arch)      I'm   with 


22  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

you. 

Gleason.  Good-bye,  folks.  See  you^  later. 
(Shakes  hands  with  Mrs.  Bradshaw  at  window) 
Keep  your  eyes  peeled  for  the  fireworks  to-night. 
Come  on,  Smollet,  beat  it.  (Slaps  Smollet  on  back 
and  both  exit  quickly  through  arch) 

Bradshaw.  (Rising  and  going  to  window)  I'll 
catch  you  at  the  meeting  at  noon  to-morrow. 

Gleason.  You're  on.  (As  they  exit  across  porch 
Martha  comes  down  c. ;  Bradshaw  opens  window 
and  goes  out  on  porch) 

Martha.  (Nervously)  I'm  worried  about  that 
terrible  letter. 

Bradshaw.  (Smiles  a  little  nervously  and  comes 
to  c.)  You  always  had  a  little  streak  of  super- 
stition, didn't  you?  Now  what  difference  can  it 
make  what  some  vicious  girl  writes  to  me? 

Martha.  (As  Bradshaw  pats  her  on  shoulder) 
But,  Elijah,  I 

(Phone  bell  rings.) 

Bradshaw.  Pardon  me  a  moment,  dear. 
(Crosses  to  desk;  Martha  gives  a  little  gesture  of 
'despair  and  exits  through  arch  and  upstairs, 
Bradshaw  at  phone)  Hello, — yes,  this  is  Mr. 
Bradshaw.  Who?  .  Macy?  Well,  what  is  it — No, 
1  am  not  at  leisure  to-night — Yes — to-morrow  I 
may  see  you  at  my  office — What  ? — Yes,  at  my  office, 
and  please  understand  I  don't  do  business  at  my 
house.  When  I  want  any  bonds  I'll  buy  them  from 
you  at  my  place  of  business. — You  understand? — 
Yes — good-bye.  (Door  bell  rings;  Bradshaw  re- 
sumes 'writing;  Otto  enters  up  r.,  goes  to  street 
door,  nods  to  Bellamy  then  enters  c.) 
.,'Otto.     Mr.  Bellamy  of  The  Star  is  here,  sir. 

Bradshaw.  (Impatiently)  .  Oh,  I'm  not  ready 
for  him  yet ;  however,  let  him  come  in. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  23 

(Otto  crosses  to  arch  and  admits  Bellamy,  then 
closes  street  door  and  exits  up  R.) 

Bellamy.  (Coming  down  to  r.  of  desk)  Oh, 
good  evening,  Mr.  Bradshaw. 

Eradsiiaw.  I  suppose  you  are  here  for  that 
statement?    It  isn*t  ready.     Can  you  wait  a  while? 

Bellamy.  Sure.  I'll  tell  you  what  I'll  do.  I've 
got  to  cover  the  Gleason  meeting  to-night,  so  I'll 
stop  on  my  way  back  to  the  office. 

Bradshaw.  That's  better.  That  will  give  me 
plenty  of  time. 

Bellamy.  (Starts  to  go,  then  pauses;  back  to 
desk)  By  the  way,  Mr.  Bradshaw,  may  I  speak  to 
you  about  something  more  important? 

Bradshaw.     (Continues  zvriting)     Well? 

Bellamy.     About  Bess. 

Bradshaw.     Bess?     What  about  her? 

Bellamy.     The  fact  is,  I  want  to  marry  her. 

Bradshaw.  (Drops  back  in  chair)  You  want 
to  do  what? 

Bellamy.     I  said  I  want  to  marry  her. 

Bradshaw.  So,  you  have  been  making  love  to 
her  behind  my  back,  have  you  ? 

Bellamy.  Not  exactly.  I  tried  to  keep  further 
away  from  you  than  that. 

Bradshaw.  Did  she  know  that  you  were  going 
to  speak  to  me? 

Bellamy.  I  told  her  I'd  take  the  first  oppor- 
tunity. 

Bradshaw.  (After  pause^  turning  it  over  m 
his  mind)     How  much  money  do  you  make? 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  c.  a  little  nervously) 
Forty-five  dollars  a  week. 

Bradshaw.  Umph!  My  dear  young  man,  with 
that  salary  you  couldn't  keep  my  daughter  in 
shoes. 

Bellamy.     I  heard  that  you  were  a  poor  man 


24  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

once. 

Bradshaw.     I  was.  and  Fm  proud  of  it! 

Bellamy.  Did  you  have  such  a  sumptuous  sal- 
ary when  you  were  married? 

BRADtHAw.  (Caught  off  guard,  retrospectively) 
Twelve  dollars  a  week,  I  think  it  was — (Recovering 
himself)  But  times  have  chancred.  There  is  no 
i^se  talking  about  it.     It  is  out  of  the  question. 

Bellamy.    Then  your  answer  is  No? 

Bradshaw.     My  answer  is  No. 

Bellamy.     No  possibility  of  any  change? 

Bradshaw.    None. 

Bellamy.  (Starts  to  go,  then  hesitates  and  re- 
turns) May  I  ask  if  you  have  any  objections  to 
me — personally  ? 

Bradshaw.  No.  No. — Except  that  I  think  you 
are  just  a  little  too  smart,  for  one  thing. 

Bellamy.  Too  smart?  What  do  you  mean — 
too  smart? 

Bradshaw.  I've  sized  you  up  as  one  of  those 
young  fellows  who  think  they  know  more  than 
their  fathers.  I  don't  know  where  they  get  it. 
College,  perhaps.  They  are  chock-full  of  skep- 
ticism, pessimism  and  agnosticism.  They  poke  fun 
at  the  churches  and  scoff  at  sacred  things  generally. 

Bellamy.  (Leaning  over  desk)  Oh,  now,  please, 
Mr.  Bradshaw — don't  put  me  in  that  class.  Where 
did  you  get  the  idea  I  am  that  sort  ? 

Bradshaw.  I  got  an  inkling  of  it  when  you 
opened  up  on  Gleason  the  other  night.  It  struck 
me  you  had  considerable  nerve  to  talk  to  him  the 
way  you  did. 

Bellamy.  You  mean  when  I  was  interviewing 
him?  I  did  lose  my  head  a  little,  didn't  I?  But 
he  got  my  goat  telling  me  how  God  calls  him  from 
one  city  to  the  other,  and  we  know — especially  you 
ought  to  know — that  he  couldn't  hear  God  calling 
him  with  a  megaphone  if  they  didn't  show  him  the 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  25 

color  of  the  coin.     (Sits  in  chair  r.  of  desk) 

Bradshaw.  There,  you  see — that  is  just  the 
sort  of  irreHgious  talk  I  mean.  You've  got  the 
wrong  angle,  my  boy. 

Bellamy.  (Taking  nezvspaper  proof  from 
pocket)  What  about  Gleason's  angle?  And  ir- 
religious stuff?  How  about  this,  a  copy  of  his  ser- 
mon to-nielit  sent  around  by  his  advance  agent. 
He's  telling  the  story  of  David  and  Goliath.  (Read- 
ing) "  Oh,  little  Dave  soaked  old  Goliath  on  the 
coco,  between  the  lamps,  and  he  went  down  to  the 
mat  for  the  count.  Then  Dave  drew  his  sword,  cut 
the  big  guy's  block  off  and  the  rest  of  the  Phihstine 
gang  beat  it." 

Bradshaw.  (Smiling)  That's  Gleason's  style. 
He  means  it  the  right  way. 

Bellamy.  Give  him  credit,  boys.  Perhaps  you 
think  my  angle's  wrong  on  the  tenderloin  question? 
You  heard  me  talking  to  him  about  that,  too? 

Bradshaw.  Yes,  I  was  shocked  to  think  that  a 
young  man  would  defend  anything  so  infamous. 

Bellamy.  I  wasn't  defending  it,  but  I  was  citing 
some  rather  convincing  crime  statistics  from  other 
cities  which  eradicated  theirs  several  years  ago  and 
are  now  balancing  up  their  police  court  records. 
Gleason  began  t*  quote  the  Bible  and  quite  naturally 
the  argument  blew  up. 

Bradshaw.  And  quite  as  naturally,  Mr.  Gleason 
was  right. 

Bellamy.  Perhaps,  but  I  never  knew  it  to  fail, 
the  minute  you  begin  to  pull  cold,  hard  facts  on  a 
preacher,  he  starts  to  shout  scripture  at  you  and  all 
bets  are  off.  (Bradshaw  glances  up  quickly)  Now, 
don't  get  the  idea  that  I'm  trying  to  be  smart,  be- 
cause I'm  not.  But  it  is  my  conviction  there  are 
two  sides  to  this  question,  just  like  every  other  ques- 
tion and  I  told  Gleason  so.  I  know  one  side  is  rot- 
ten enough.    Any  reporter  who  has  ever  done  police 


26  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

court  knows  that.  But  if  I  were  in  the  Mayor's 
place  and  had  it  in  my  power  to  close  them  up,  or 
let  'em  run,  and  I  wanted  to  be  on  the  square  with 
my  own  conscience,  well  I  swear  I  don't  know  what 
I'd  do. 

Bradshaw.  It  is  extremely  fortunate  for  this 
community  that  you  are  not  the  Mayor. 

Bellamy.  Maybe.  Still,  I  don't  know.  I  might 
get  by.  I  took  some  pretty  good  lessons  in  mayor- 
ing. 

Bradshaw.  Lessons?  Umph!  From  whom? 
{He  continues  zvriting,  glancing  up  at  intervals) 

Bellamy.  From  old  Sam  Jones  in  Toledo.  I 
worked  on  The  Blade  up  there  for  a  while  and  used 
to  cover  City  Hall.  You  remember  him?  They 
called  him  "  Golden  Rule  Jones,"  because  he  oper- 
ated on  the  do-unto-others-as-you- would-be-done - 
by  plan.  His  police  court  was  a  court  of  rehabili- 
tation. He  found  the  good  that  is  in  every  man  and 
built  on  that.  And  Toledo  was  what  they  call  an 
open  town.  So  a  committee  like  yours  called  on 
Jones  to  ask  him  to  close  up  the  tenderloin.  I  hap- 
pened to  be  in  the  office  at  the  time.  He  listened 
patiently  to  their  argument  and  said :  "  All  right, 
boys — let's  shut  her  up."  The  committee  beamed 
on  him.  "  But,"  said  Jones,  "  There  are  only  two 
ways  to  do  it."  "  Well,''  said  the  committee,  "  Well," 
said  Jones,  "  The  first  way  is  to  chloroform  all  the 
inmates — that  would  be  murder  and  we  can't  do 
that,  can  we?  The  committee  shook  their  heads, 
"  And  the  only  other  way  is  to  drive  these  women 
from  our  town  into  the  surrounding  towns  and 
it  would  be  like  dumping  our  garbage  over  our  back 
fence,  an  unneighborly  and  unchristian-like  pro- 
ceeding, and  we  don't  want  to  do  that.  So  I  guess 
we  better  let  things  be  just  as  they  are  "  said  Jones. 

Bradshaw.    Umph ! 

Bellamy.    The  committee  got  as  far  as  the  door 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  27 

when  Jones  had  an  idea.  "  Hold  on  you  boys,  there 
might  be  a  way  out  of  this.  Suppose  we  good  citi- 
zens of  Toledo  take  these  women  into  our  homes  as 
guests  or  servants  and  let  our  wives  and  daughters 
reform  them.  You  can  put  Mrs.  Jones  down  for 
two — bow  many  wnll  your  wives  take?"  Well,  say, 
the  chairman  of  that  committee  hit  the  ceiling  like  a 
sky  roclcct :  "  What  "  he  cried.  "  Take  women  of 
that  c'ass  into  our  homes.  I've  always  heard  you 
were  a  damn  fool  Jones  and  now  I  know  it  first 
hand " ;  and  that  meeting  busted  up  right  there. 
{Rises  and  crosses  c.) 

Bradshaw.  {Secretly  impressed)  So,  that's 
W'here  you  got  your  ideas — from  a  mountebank 
mayor. 

Bellamy.  Some  of  them.  {Crosses  to  desk  above 
chair)  But  we're  way  off  at  a  tangent,  Mr.  Brad- 
shaw. Have  you  been  giving  any  thought  to  that 
question  I  asked  you  a  little  while  ago?  Have  I 
any  chance? 

Bradshaw.    I  told  you,  you  haven't. 

Bellamy.  (Belozv  chair)  Just  the  same,  I'll 
ask  you  again  when  I  come  back  to-night.  Maybe 
by  that  time  you'll  change  your  mind, — about  that 
and  other  things. 

Bradshaw.  What  do  you  mean  by  "other 
things  ?  " 

Bellamy.  Your  stand  on  the  social  clean-up 
proposition,  for  instance. 

Bradshaw.  My  dear  young  man,  I  think  I  am 
safe  in  saying  that  if  I  do  change  my  mind  on  that 
question,  I  may  promise  you  that  I  will  on  all 
others. 

(Paul  comes  down-stairs  and  enters  through  arch 
dressed  for  street.     Comes  down   c.) 

Bellamy.      {Leaning  over  desk)     That's  a  bet 


28  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

— I'll  hold  you  to  that  promise. 

Paul.     Hello,  Bellamy — back  again? 

Bellamy.  {Turning  to  Paul)  Yes,  I  came  to 
see  your  father  on  business.  I'm  off  to  hit  the 
sawdust  trail.  As  I  thought,  I've  got  to  cover  the 
Gleason  meeting  to-night. 

Paul.  And  I'm  elected  to  chaperon  the  ladies. 
(Going  to  arch)  Wonder  when  this  stuff  is  going 
to  stop? 

Bellamy.  Oh,  a  couple  of  weeks  will  wind  it  up. 
(To  Bradshaw)  Everybody  is  getting  converted 
and  the  Gospel-mill  is  running  short  of  raw  ma- 
terial. 

(Martha  and  Bess  come  down  the  stairs  and 
enter  through  arch.  Martha  has  coat  over 
arm.  She  crosses  to  Bradshaw  l.  who  rises 
and  comes  upstage  to  help  her  on  with  her 
coat.    Bess  crosses  to  Bellamy  r.  c.) 

Bess.    We're  going  to  the  tabernacle. 

Bellamy.     So  am  I.     May  I  come  with  you? 

Bess.     (Arranging  gloves)     Surely  come  along. 

Bellamy.  (Taking  Bess'  arm  and  pulling  her  to 
one  side)     I've  just  been  speaking  to  your  father. 

Bess.    About  what? 

Bellamy.     About  us. 

Bess.    Us?    Heavens,  what  did  he  say? 

Bellamy.     He  said — No! 

Bess.  Sometimes  he  says  "  no  "  when  he  means 
"  yes." 

Bellamy.  Let's  hope  this  is  one  of  the  times. 
I'm  going  to  the  mat  with  him  again. 

Bess.     The  mat? 

Bellamy.  Wrestle  with  him  again,  you  know. 
I'm  getting  full  of  slang  since  Gleason  came  to 
town. 

Paul.     (Has  been  putting  on  light  overcoat  and 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  29 

gloves)     Come  on,  folks,  or  you  will  miss  the  over- 
ture. 

(Clock  strikes  eight.) 

Bess.  Oh,  we  can  hear  it  from  here.  Come  on. 
(They  move  toward  the  door) 

Bellamy.     See  you  later,  Mr.  Bradshaw. 

Martha.  (Kissing  Bradskav^)  Good-bye,  dear. 
We  will  be  back  in  an  hour  or  so. 

Bess.    Come,  mother. 

Martha.     Yes,  dear. 

(Paul  opens  door  and  sound  of  church  music  is 
heard. ) 

Bess.     (Laughs)     There,  it's  started  already.- 
Paul.     I  told  you  we'd  be  late. 
Bellamy.      (Light  laugh)     Ail  aboard   for  Jor- 
dan. 

(Party  exits  off  l.) 

Bradshaw.  Good-bye.  (Goes  out  on  porch,  lis- 
tening a  few  moments  to  music.  Otto  enters  up  r. 
closes  street  door,  comes  down  r.  puts  out  table 
lamp.  Crosses  upstage  to  table.  Bradshaw  goes 
back  to  desk;  and  sees  Otto)  Lock  the  street 
door.  (Otto  exits  through  arch  and  locks  street 
door.  Hall  lights  go  out.  Otto  comes  down  R. 
of  desk)  Turn  out  those  lights  and  draw  the  cur* 
tains.  (Otto  turns  out  lights  and  draws  curtains, 
comes  dozvn  and  places  chair  right  of  desk  at  tip- 
stage  end  of  desk)  I'm  not  at  home  to  anyone, — 
to  anybody,  you  understand? 

Otto.     Yes,  sir.     (He  exits  up  n.) 

(Bradshaw   is  left  alone,  sitting  at  desk.     Desk 


30  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

lamp  is  lit.  He  writes  steadily  for  a  few  mo- 
ments.  Nothing  is  heard  save  the  scratching  of 
his  pen  on  the  paper.  He  stops  writing,  then 
lifts  the  paper  to  read.) 

Bradshaw.  Let's  see  how  I  cover  this  point. 
{He  reads.  Sound  of  singing  off)  "  In  spite  of  the 
silly  sentimentality  that  prevails  in  certain  quar- 
ters these  women  who  ply  their  unspeakable  trade 
must  be  shown  no  pity.  They  have  forfeited  all 
right  to  human  sympathy.  One  and  all,  they  must 
be  driven  from  the  city — ruthlessly,  remorselessly 
as  we  would  drive  from  our  door-yard  a  pestilential 
criminal  who  sought  to  do  us  bodily  harm.  It  is 
not  pertinent  to  say  that  misfortune  drove  them  to 
this,  or  poverty,  or  betrayed  love,  or  a  predisposition 
passed  down  by  immoral  parents.  We  have  to  deal 
with  effects,  not  with  causes.  And  I  seriously  mis- 
trust if  any  of  these  alleged  causes  may  be  substan- 
tiated in  fact.  Our  misfortunes  are  all  of  our  own 
making.  Poverty  is  a  disease  bred  by  laziness ;  be- 
trayed love  is  a  nickname  for  lust,  and  predisposi- 
tion is  a  cowardly  excuse  for  hiding  our  own  crimes 
behind  the  tombstones  of  our  ancestors.  And  so 
we  call  upon  the  officials  of  this  city  to  do  their 
duty.  Not  merely  to  close  up  these  houses  of  in- 
famy, but  to  see  to  it  that  their  inmates,  these  women 
with  the  scarlet  letters  on  their  breasts,  are  ban- 
ished forever  from  the  community." — {He  yawns 
and  continues  to  grow  drowsier.  He  sees  letter  of 
girl  and  picks  it  tip  and  starts  to  read  dreamily)  "  I 
shall  remain  here  to  see  your  daughter  ruined  and 
your  son  an  outcast  and  a  thief.  I  shall  remair 
here  to  see  your  wife    {turn)    torn   from  you  by 

death — and — see   you There  —  there  —  Martha, 

what  difference  can  it  make  what  some  vicious 
girl — writes  to  me?  {His  head  falls  slowly  over 
on  the  desk  and  he  is  asleep.    Desk  lamp  dims  to 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  31 

black.  Magdalene  enters  and  comes  c.  stage. 
Voices  szvell.  Blue  spot  slowly  dims,  upon  Magda- 
lene picture  r.  Then  dims  black  again.  Voices 
dim  slozvly  away.  Desk  lamp  slowly  comes  up, 
Bradshaw's  head  slozvly  comes  up  zvith  lamp  and 
he  sees  Magdalene  standing  c.  light  straw  spot  on 
tvoman's  face,  steel  bine  spot  on  Bradshaw's  face ) 

Bradshaw.  (In  azved  voice)  Hello,  who  arc 
you? 

Woman.     A  woman. 

Bradshaw.  Yes,  yes,  but  who  are  you?  What 
are  you  doing  here? 

Woman.  You  mean  my  name — what  does  that 
matter,  I  am  a  woman. 

Bradshaw.  How  did  you  get  in  here?  (He 
moves  as  though  to  ring  for  servant) 

Woman.  Please  don't,  I'll  go.  (She  wavers  as 
though  from  weakness)  I  thought  you  might  help 
me. 

Bradshaw.  What  made  you  think  that  ?  Help 
you  ?    How  ? 

Woman.     To  get  employment, 

Bradshaw.  Perhaps,  but  this  is  no  time  or  place 
to  apply  for  work.  Go  to  my  store  to-morrow  and 
if  you  can  convince  my  superintendent  that  you  arc 
willing  and  honest 

Woman.     That's  just  it.     I  am  afraid  I  can't. — 

Bradshaw.  Can't  what?  Aren't  you  willing 
to  work? 

Woman.  Willing,  yes — but  I  could  never  work 
in  your  store.  I  must  have  a  place  not  quite  so  pub- 
lic.   You  see 

Bradshaw.  No,  I  don't  see.  What  do  you 
mean  ? 

Woman.  I  mean  that  I  am  too  well-known.  It 
would  never  do.  Now  a  place  here — in  your  home — 
that  would  be  different. 

Bradshaw.     VVe  are  not  taking  unknown  women 


32  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

into  our  home.  It  strikes  me  you  have  a  lot  of  pre- 
sumption to  ask  for  work  and  then  dictate  just  what 
kind  of  work  you  are  going  to  do.  Why  do  you 
come  to  me  anyway  ?  I  want  you  to  go  now  before 
I  call  and  have  you  put  out.     (Starts  to  ring  again) 

Woman.  I  come  to  you  because  you  are  respon- 
sible. 

Bradshaw.  Responsible?  Responsible  for 
what? 

Woman.  For  my  being  in  the  streets  to-night — 
homeless. 

Bradshaw.     I!     What  have  I  to  do  with  it? 

Woman.  You  have  everything  to  do  with  it. 
Don't  you  know  that  hundreds  of  women  like  me 
are  cursing  you  at  this  very  moment? 

Bradshaw.     Cursing  me?    What  for? 

Woman.  For  having  them  thrown  out  of  their 
homes  into  the  gutters.  Don't  you  suppose  they 
read  the  papers?  Don't  you  suppose  they  know 
that  it's  your  money  that's  paying  for  all  of  this, 
that  you  are  the  one  to  blame? 

Bradshaw.  I  see,  you  mean  the  women  of  the 
district,  I  see.  Well,  let  them  curse.  My  con- 
science is  clear.  But  why  do  you — am  I  to  believe 
that  you — are — are 

Woman.    One  of  them — ^yes. 

Bradshaw.  (He  looks  at  her  incredulously) 
You  don't  look  like  a  vicious  woman. 

Woman.     (Turning  to  him  appealingly)     No? 

Bradshaw.  Your  face  reminds  me  of  someone 
I  once  knew — a  good  woman  she  was — and  your 
eyes — I'll  not  believe  it.  (He  passes  his  hand  across 
his  eyes  as  though  to  drive  away  a  memory.  He 
drops  back  in  chair.  The  woman  throws  back  her 
cloak,  revealing  a  gaudy  red  dress  cut  extremely 
low.  She  wears  tawdry  jewels  and  her  whole  ap- 
pearance is  suggestive  of  an  inmate  of  a  house  of 
prostifution) 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  33 

Woman.  Will  you  believe  it  now?  (As  she 
places  cloak  on  chair  iip-stage  end  of  desk.  Baby 
strazv  which  has  been  shining  only  on  her  face  now 
cm'elopes  her  completely) 

Bradshaw.  (Rising  in  rage)  And  you  dare 
profane  my  home,  contaminate  this  very  room  where 
only  a  few  moments  a,^o  my  wife  and  children  were  ? 

Woman.     Your  children?    A  daughter? 

Bradshaw.  A  daughter,  yes.  A  virtuous  girl, 
thank  God. 

Woman.     A  son? 

Bradshaw.    A  son  who  has  not  met  such  as  you. 

Woman.     These  two  your  only  children? 

Bradshaw.    Yes.     (He  reaches  for  bell) 

Woman.    Are  you  sure,  quite  sure? 

Bradshaw.     Sure  of  what? 

Woman.  That  these  two  are  your  only  chil- 
dren. That  there  is  no  one  else  who  has  the  right 
to  call  you  father. 

Bradshav/.     What  do  you  mean? 

Woman.  (Leaning  over  desk)  A  moment  ago 
my  eyes  attracted  you.  Now  look  in  them  again 
and  say  you  do  not  remember  the  woman  whose 

Bradshaw.  (Guiltily)  You  don't  know  what 
you're  saying.     I  want  you  to 

Woman.    Are  you  afraid? 


Bradshaw.     Afraid  of  you — you- 


WoMAN.  Then  if  you  are  not  afraid,  let  your 
mind  go  back  to  an  autumn  long  ago.  A  girl  you 
lured  from  home  and  then  betrayed.  My  eyes  may 
help  you  to  remember.  (He  turns  on  her  slowly  and 
gases  into  her  eyes  fixedly.  A  great  fear  comes  over 
him) 

Bradshaw.  Ruth !  Your  mother.  Blackmailer ! 
Someone  told  you. 

Woman.    I  needed  no  one  to  tell  me. 
■    Bradshaw.     It  cannot  be  possible.     Why  she's 
been  dead  these  twenty  years. 


34  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Woman.  And  they  never  told  you  she  had  left 
a  child. 

Bradshaw.  No.  I  never  knew.  I  never  knew. 
rU  not  believe  it! 

Woman.    And  yet  my  eyes. 

Bradshaw.  (Casing  at  her  intently)  Your 
eyes — my  God — I  must  believe  it  now.  You  are 
my  daughter! 

Woman.    I  have  not  said  so. 

Bradshaw.     No,  but  I  can  feel  it  here — here. 

Woman.    Do  you  recall  where  you  met  her? 

Bradshaw.     At  Blenheim,  in  the  autumn. 

Woman.  Love  comes  quickly  in  hazy  autumn 
days. 

Bradshaw.     Ours  came  so. 

Woman.    You  loved  her  then? 

Bradshaw.  I  thought  so.  Her  innocence  and 
youth  attracted  me.  And  finally  when  I  asked 
her  to  come,  she  came  with  me  to  Montreal.  And 
there 

Woman.    And  there — you  deserted  her. 

Bradshaw.    Yes.    (He  hangs  his  head  in  shame) 

Woman.     (With  pity)     Poor — poor  girl. 

Bradshaw.  (Slowly  recovering  himself)  And 
you  her  child?  Her  child.  I  pity  you,  and  duty 
demands  that  I  provide  for  you.  Here,  here  is 
money.  You  must  go  away.  When  this  is  gone 
I  will  send  you  more.  (He  takes  a  packet  of  money 
from  desk  drawer) 

Woman.  I  don't  want  money.  It's  the  cheapest 
thing  in  the  world.  I  want  a  home,  a  father's  love 
— oh,  let  me  remain  here. 

Bradshaw.    That  is  impossible.    You  must  go. 

Woman.  No,  please  let  me  stay.  It  is  my 
right. 

Bradshaw.    No  you  must  go.    I  couldn't  face  it. 

Woman.  No  one  need  know.  Let  me  remain 
here  as  a  servant. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  35 

Bradshaw.  a  servant!  And  my  son  and 
daughter ! 

Woman.     They  will  not  be  harmed  by  me. 

Bradshaw.    Not  harmed  by  you — a  common 

Woman.  But  still  by  your  own  confession,  your 
daughter ! 

Bradshaw.  My  daughter!  (Rings  for  servant) 
My  punishment !  God's  vengeance  !  And  to  what 
unspeakable  depths  you  have  fallen. 

Woman.  I  heard  you  read  a  little  while  ago 
that  our  misfortunes  are  all  of  our  own  making. 
That's  not  altogether  true  in  my  case,  is  it?  You 
see,  I  had  no  chance — no  mother's  love — no  one  to 
point  the  way.  But  now — (She  turns  to  him  ap- 
peaJingly  as  Otto  enters  through  arch) 

Bradshaw.  (Wavers  between  the  resolution  to 
have  the  girl  throzvn  into  the  street  and  the  pa- 
ternal impulse  to  protect  her)  Otto — show  Miss — 
this  young  woman  to  a  room.  To-morrow  she  is  to 
help  about  the  house.  See  that  she  is  made  com- 
fortable. She  comes  to  us — highly  recommended. 
(Otto  turns  and  exits  up  r.)  Go,  now,  please. 
(To  Woman.  Woman  turns  slowly,  takes  cloak 
from  chair  and  walks  slozvly  up  to  arch  where  she 
turns  and  faces  Bradshaw  zvho  is  standing  watch- 
ing her  intently) 

Woman.    Thank  you. 

(There  is  a  short  pause  and  Bradshaw  slowly  sinks 
into  his  chair.) 


ACT  II 


Time:  It  is  nine  o'clock  in  the  morning.  Brackets 
and  desk-lamp  are  out.  Morning  sunlight  on 
the  outside  of  zvindow.    Three  baby  spots  from 


:^6  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

bridge,  straw,  to  cover  as  much  of  stage  as 
possible.  Arc  lamp  straw  on  zvindozv  of  street 
door.  Clock  strikes  nine  at  rise.  Bellamy 
is  seen  crossing  porch  to  street  door.  He  rings 
door  bell.    Otto  crosses  hall  and  admits  him. 

Bellamy.  (Coming  briskly  through  arch  to  c.) 
Is  Mr.  Bradshaw  in? 

Otto.  (Up  c.)  He  is  not  feeling  well  this 
morning. 

Bellamy.  Well,  you  tell  him  Mr.  Bellamy  of 
The  Star  is  here  and- 1  must  see  him  at  once. 

Otto.    Yes,  sir.    Will  you  wait  here  ? 

Bellamy.    Yes.    Oh,  is  Miss  Elizabeth  about? 

Otto.  She  is  in  the  breakfast  room.  Shall  I  tell 
her  you  are  here? 

Bellamy.  No.  Just  Mr.  Bradshaw.  (Otto 
c.vits  up  R. ;  Bellamy  goes  to  arch — looks  around 
thoughtfully,  goes  to  desk  l.  ;  takes  up  phone) 
Hello, — hello — give  me  7977  Belford — yy,  yes — 
The  Star  office.  (Bradshaw  enters  up  r.)  Never 
mind,  little  sister.  (Hangs  up  receiver  and  comes 
c.) 

Bradshaw.  (At  c.)  Hello,  Bellamy,  what  do 
you  want  with  me  so  early? 

Bellamy.  I'm  on  a  tough  job,  Mr.  Bradshaw. 
I'd  rather  pass  it  up.  I'm  here  for  the  paper.  It's 
about  Paul. 

-Bradshaw.  (Showing  surprise)  Paul?  What 
about  him? 

Bellamy.  Well  I'd  rather  take  a  licking  than 
be  the  one  to  tell  you — it's  about  the  bank. 

Bradshaw.     The  bank?    What  about  the  bank? 

Bellamy.     An  investigation  held  last  night. 

Bradshaw.  Investigation  of  what?  What  are 
you  driving  at?  (Crossing  down  to  l.)  Now  don't 
come  here  and  drag  me  away  from  my  breakfast 
to  talk  bank  business.     Why  don't  you  talk  to  Paul. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  37 

He  attends  to  that  end  of  it.    (Sits  at  desk) 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  desk  l.)  I  know.  It's 
about  Paul  that  I've  got  to  tell  you.  There  has  been 
a  shortage. 

Bradsiiaw.  Well  what  of  it?  I'm  only  a  direc- 
tor and  not  morally  responsible  for  that.  If  some- 
one is  short — if  somebody  has  stolen  from  us,  there's 
no  occasion  for  alarm.  The  bonding  company  will 
make  good.     Tell  your  paper  so. 

Bellamy.  But  don't  you  see?  Can't  you  under- 
stand that  they  are  blaming  Paul  as  the  responsible 
person  ? 

Bradshaw.  Plow  can  they  attach  any  responsi- 
bility to  him?  He's  merely  the  assistant  cashier. 
They  will  have  to  go  higher  up.     If  anybody 

Bellamy.  It  isn't  a  question  of  responsibility, 
it's  a  question  of  guilt. 

Bradshaw\     Guilt ! 

Bellamy.  Yes.  Now  I've  been  trying  to  break 
it  to  you  as  gently  as  I  can  that  Paul  is  charged  with 
the  shortage.  A  warrant  will  be  issued  this  morn- 
ing unless  something  is  done  to  head  it  off.  ( Crosses 
to  R.  c.) 

Bradshaw.  Paul  charged  with  it?  (Rises  and 
crosses  around  desk  to  c.) 

Bellamy.    Yes. 

Bradshaw.  Come,  come  young  man,  this  is  too 
serious  a  thing  to  joke  about. 

Bellamy.  Can't  you  see  I'm  not  joking.  It's 
because  it  is  so  serious  that  I've  come  to  you.  We 
must  do  something.     Now  if 

Bradshaw.  Wait.  Who  told  you  this?  Who 
says  that  my  boy 

Bellamy.     Perkins. 

Bradshaw.  (Crossing  to  r.)  Perkins.  That 
rat! 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  r.  c.)  Yes,  one  of  his 
examiners   tipped   the    office    a    few    minutes    ago. 


38  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Luckily  I  got  the  assignment  and  hustled  right 
over.  Now  if  we  act  quickly,  the  whole  thing  can 
be  hushed  up. 

Bradshaw.  (Sitting  on  bench  r.)  Hush  it  up? 
If  it's  true,  hushing  it  up  won't  help  here.  (He 
strikes  himself  on  the  heart) 

Bellamy.  But  it's  not  so  bad  perhaps  as  you 
think.     Only  about  five  thousand. 

Bradshaw.  The  amount  doesn't  matter.  You 
say  my  boy  is  a  thief !  That's  the  thing  that  hurts, 
hurts.  (The  Woman  enters  up  r.  carrying  a  fresh 
bouquet  of  flowers.  She  crosses  and  places  them  on 
desk  at  L.  She  is  unobserved  by  the  two  men)  Does 
he  know? 

Bellamy.     About  the  investigation? 

Bradshaw.    Yes. 

Bellamy.    No. 

Bradshaw.  We  must  keep  it  from  his  mother 
at  all  costs.    It  would  break  her  heart. 

Bellamy.    We  can  do  that  all  right. 

Bradshaw.  What  can  he  have  done  with  the 
money  ?  I  have  never  denied  him  anything.  He  has 
had  everything  he  asked  for.  Everything. — Gamb- 
ling, that  what's  done  it.  The  stock  market — or 
worse.  (Woman  who  has  been  watching  the  two 
men  intently,  goes  out  on  porch  keeping  her  eyes 
on  Bradshaw.  Bradshaw  rises  and  goes  c.  to 
head  of  desk)  But  why  didn't  he  come  to  me? 
Why  didn't  he  come  to  me? 

Bellamy.  My  suggestion  is  that  you  see  Paul 
right  away,  then  we  can  get  to  the  bank  officials  be- 
fore it  goes  any  further.     (Crosses  to  door  r.  ) 

Bradshaw.  (Pulling  himself  together)  That's 
the  thing  to  do.  (Goes  to  desk  and  rings  for  ser- 
vant) MoraHzing  won't  help  us  any,  will  it?  Paul 
is  still  in  his  room.  I'll  see  him  at  once.  You  wait 
in  here.  (Crosses  to  r.  and  indicating  door)  When 
I  am  ready  to  go  to  the  bank  I'll  call  you. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  39 

Bellamy.  All  right,  Til  be  waiting.  (He  exits 
through  door,  Bradshaw  ttirns  and  crosses  up  c. 
Woman  comes  down  from  window  and  intercepts 
him ) 

Woman.  Does  it  occur  to  you  that  he  might 
have  stolen  this  money  for  a  woman? 

Bradshaw.     A  woman?     What  woman? 

Woman.  A  woman  living  in  a  flat  on  Orchard 
Street. 

Bradshaw.  You  don't  know  what  you're  say- 
ing. How  dare  you  suggest  such  a  thing  to  me? 
(Otto  enters  from  up  r.)  Tell  my  son  to  come 
here  quickly. 

(Otto  exits  up  the  stairs.) 

Woman.  I  know  the  woman.  Married  to  a  man 
who  abused  her,  she  left*him  and  tried  to  earn  her 
living  by  working  in  your  store.  But  it  was  not 
enough !  Your  son  noticed  her,  talked  to  her  and 
learned  her  story.  He  induced  her  to  leave  your 
store  and  set  her  up  in  a  little  flat  on  Orchard 
Street.  He  likes  her  and  I  think  will  marry  her 
when  she  gets  her  divorce.     Meanwhile 

Bradshaw.  If  this  is  true,  he  can  rot  in  jail. 
If  this  is  so,  the  bank  can  prosecute.  I  wash  my 
hands  of  him.  (Crosses  to  desk  l.)  But  how  do 
I  know  you  are  telling  me  the  truth?  It's  all  so 
strange,  your  coming  here  last  night  and  now  this. 

Woman.  Then  why  don't  you  find  out  the  truth 
from  him? 

Bradshaw.  I  will.  I'll  have  him  down  here  this 
instant.  Tell  him  to  hurry. 

(The  Woman  starts  up — stops  at  seeing  Paul  at 
top  of  stairs.) 

Woman.    He  is  coming.     Remember  he  is  your 


40  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

son.  (Paul  starts  down  stairs)  Remember  Blen- 
heim. The  sins  of  the  fathers.  (Crosses  up  to 
window) 

Paul..  {Enters  down  the  stairs  and  appears  at 
c.  entrance  in  bathrobe)     Well 

Bradshaw.     {Behind  desk)     Come  here. 

Paul.  What's  up?  Can't  you  let  me  finish 
dressing.  {Coming  down  he  glances  at  Woman 
who  turns  and  starts  to  exit  through  arch)  Hello, 
when  did  you  enter  the  family  circle? 

Woman.  Only  a  few  hours  ago.  Or  was  it  a  few 
years?  {She  glances  at  Bradshaw)  I  have  quite 
forgotten.    {She  exits  up  r.) 

Paul.  That's  pretty  fresh.  {Coming  down  fac- 
ing his  father)     Well  ? 

Bradshaw.  {Attempting  to  control  his  temper^ 
My  boy,  you  have  been  found  out. 

Paul.  {Suspecting  the  truth)  Found  out,  what 
do,  you  mean,  found  out? 

Bradshaw.    The  bank. 

Paul.    The  bank  ? 

Bradshaw.    The  investigation  was  last  night. 

Paul.  {Putting  on  brave  front)  Investigation. 
What  investigation? 

Bradshaw.     The  investigation  of  your  books. 

Paul.  My  books.  There's  nothing  the  matter 
with  my  books.     {Crosses  to  desk) 

Bradshaw.  My  boy,  it's  no  use.  Perkins  is  in 
the  bank  now. 

Paul.     Perkins!    Then  the  jig's  up. 

Bradshaw.     You  mean  that  you  are  guilty? 

Paul.  I  mean  that  I  am  short.  I  meant  to  put  it 
back.    God  knows  I  meant  to  make  it  good. 

Bradshaw.  {Bitterly)  You  meant  to.  You 
meant  to!  It  doesn't  matter  now  what  you  meant 
to  do. 

Paul.    How  much  did  they  find? 

Bradshaw.     You  ought  to  know.     How  much 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  41 

is  it? 

Paul.  About  six  thousand,  I  think.  (Sits  in 
chair  r.  of  desk) 

Bradshaw.  Why  didn't  you  tell  me  before  it 
came  to  this? 

Paul.     I  couldn't!    I  was  afraid  to  tell  you. 

Bradshaw.     Where's  the  money  gone? 

Paul.    I've  spent  it! 

Bradshaw.     Gambling? 

Paul.     No. 

Bradshaw.     Plow  then? 

Paul.     Fve  spent  it,  that's  all. 

Bradshaw.  You  won't  say?  Are  you  ashamed 
to  tell  me  how  you  spent  this  money? 

Paul.     Perhaps. 

Bradshaw.  Then  Pll  tell  you.  I  heard,  but  I 
wouldn't  believe.  You  spent  it  on  a  woman — a 
married  woman 

Paul.     (Rising  in  great  fear)     It's  a  lie ! 

Bradshavv^    a  woman  on  Orchard  Street. 

Paul.     (Backing  up)     Who  told  you  this? 

Bradshaw.     It's  true  then! 

Paul.  (Goaded  into  defiance)  Yes  it's  true. 
And  now  that  you  know,  what  are  you  going  to  do 
about  it? 

Bradshaw.    You  must  give  this  woman  up. 

Paul.  (Turning  and  crossing  to  r.)  I'll  never 
give  her  up. 

Bradshaw.  (Crosses  around  desk  to  c.)  When 
you're  in  jail,  you  may  change  your  mind. 

Paul.  (Coming  back  to  c.)  Dad!  You 
wouldn't  let  me  go  there.  You  wouldn't  dare. 
Your  own  pride  and  position.  Besides  you  know 
it  would  kill  mother. 

Bradshaw.  (Weakening)  If  I  save  you  at  all, 
it'll  be  for  her.  But  you  must  promise  to  give  this 
woman  up.     (Crosses  to  r.  c.) 


42  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Paul.  Never!  FU  marry  Ruth  just  as  soon  as 
she's  free.    (Crossing  to  l.) 

Bradshaw.  (Crossing  to  l.  c.)  Ruth!  Is  her 
name  Ruth? 

Paul.    Why  yes. 

Woman.  (Entering  suddenly  from  up  r.)  Did 
you  call  ? 

Bradshaw.     (Without  looking  at  her)     No. 

Woman.  I  thought  I  heard  someone  call  my 
name. 

Bradshaw.  (Crossing  to  c.  and  staring  at  her) 
Your  name?    Is  your  name  Ruth? 

Woman.    Yes. 

Bradshaw.  (Falls  back  stunned  by  the  strange 
coincidence.  Both  Paul  and  Woman  rush  to  him 
thinking  he  has  fainted.  He  waves  them  both  aside. 
He  speaks  to  Paul  and  crosses  shakily  to  door  down 
r.  as  he  is  speaking)  You  stay  here.  Don't  come 
to  the  bank.  Fll  go  down  with  Bellamy. — He's  here 
waiting  now. — He'll  help  me  hush  the  thing  up — 
and  I'll  see  what  can  be  done.  Meanwhile — say 
nothing  to  anyone  and  stay  right  here  in  the  house. 

Paul.  (Crossing  quickly  to  r.)  Was  it  Bel- 
lamy that  told  you  about  the  money? 

Bradshaw.     (At  door)     Yes. 

Paul.    And  about  the  other. 

Bradshaw.    No. 

Paul.  Well  then  where  did  you  hear  about — 
(Bradshaw  who  hds  opened  the  door  to  admit  Bel- 
lamy turns  and  his  eyes  rest  on  Woman.  He 
crosses  to  arch.  Paul  gives  Woman  a  glance  as 
Bellamy  comes  through  door.  To  Bellamy) 
This  is  bad  business,  old  man.  (Bellamy  crosses 
to  Paul  and  takes  his  hand)  Try  to  keep  it  under 
cover  for  me,  will  you? 

Bellamy.    I'll  do  my  best.    You  know  that. 

Bradshaw.  (From  center  of  arch)  Coming 
Bellamy  ? 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  43 

Bellamy.  Yes,  right  with  you,  Mr.  Bradshaw. 
(He  exits  through  arch  and  out  street  door,  Mr. 
Bradshaw  foUozving  him  with  his  eyes  still  on  the 
Woman  as  he  crosses  porch.  Paul  goes  up  to 
arch  and  watches  them  off.  Woman  watches  Paul) 

Paul.  (Coming  dozvn  and  seeing  Woman  look- 
ing at  him)  What  are  you  looking  so  keen  about — 
maybe  you  know  who  told  him  all  this  stuff. 

Woman.     Yes,  I  know. 

Paul.    You  know,  then  who  was  it? 

Woman.     I  told  him. 

Paul.  {Turning  on  the  Woman  tiger ously,  and 
crossing  to  c.)     You  told  him! 

Woman.    Yes,  I  told  him. 

Paul.  What  business  have  you  butting  into  my 
affairs.     Who  are  you  anyhow? 

Woman.     I  am  the  housemaid. 

Paul.  I  know  that,  but  who  are  you?  I  never 
saw  you  before  in  my  life. 

Woman.     Are  you  sure? 

Paul.    Yes. 

Woman.    Yes  ? 

Paul.  {Hesitating,  with  a  step  hack)  You  do 
look  familiar  at  that.     I  have  seen  you  somewhere. 

Woman.    You  think  so? — now? 

Paul.  Yes,  I  think  so.  But  that  don't  tell  me 
why  you  go  blabbing  to  my  father.  {Crossing  to 
Woman)     I  could  kill  you  for  that,  you 

(Woman  crosses  down  l.) 

Bess.  {Off-stage)  Paul!  {Enters  through 
arch  from  up  r.  and  crosses  to  Paul)  Mother  has 
been  calling  and  calling  you  for  breakfast.  {See- 
ing the  dressing  gown)  What  in  the  world  are  you 
doing  down  here  in  that  rig?  ^ 

Paul.  {Forcing  a  smile)  Why,  I  was  just  talk- 
ing to   father.      {He  looks  at  Woman  as  though 


44  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

cautiontjig  her  to  keep  the  nezvs  from  his  sister,  and 
exits  quickly  through  door  down  r.) 

Bess.  (Bewildered)  What's  come  over  every- 
one this  morning?  (She  crosses  quickly  to  windozv 
up  L.  and  looks  out  into  the  street) 

Woman.    Are  you  expecting  someone? 

Bess.  {Startled,  coming  down)  No,  what 
makes  you  ask? 

Woman.    I  thought  you  were. 

Bess.     (Petulantly)     When  did  you  come  here? 

Woman.     {Crossing  to  r.)     Last  night. 

Bess.  Who  employed  you?  Mother  said  noth- 
ing about  it. 

Woman.     Your  father. 

Bess.  That's  funny.  WTien  did  father  begin 
hiring  maids? 

Woman.  {Arranging  hooks  on  table  R.  c.)  He 
hked  my  references. 

Bess.  You've  worked  somewhere  in  the  neigh- 
borhood haven't  you?  Your  face  looks  familiar. 
What  are  your  duties  ? 

Woman.    Housemaid. 

Bess.     Where's  Susie  going? 

Woman.  She's  not  going.  She  is  to  stay,  I  be- 
lieve. 

Bess.  {With  sarcasm)  Both  of  you?  Indeed, 
what  extravagance.  {There  is  a  low  whistle  off- 
stage. Bess  turns  and  crosses  again  to  window  up 
L.  She  signals  to  someone  to  come  in.  Then 
crosses  dozvn  l.  c.)  Better  open  the  door  for  Mr. 
Macy. 

(Macy  crosses  porch  to  street  door.) 

Woman.    Then  you  were  expecting  someone  ? 

Bess.  You're  impertinent.  Go  to  the  door. 
(Woman  exits  to  street  door  and  admits  Macy. 
He  hands  her  his  hat  and  stick,  then  seeing  Bess 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  45 

crosses  quickly  to  her  as  though  to  embrace  her. 
She  stops  him  with  a  gesture.  Woman  stands  in 
the  arch)  You  may  go.  (Woman  exits  up  ». 
Macy  watches  her  off  then  crosses  to  Bess,  takes 
her  in  his  arms  and  kisses  her) 

Macy.     (After  Woman  has  gone)     Now! 

Bess.  I  don't  know  why  I  should  let  you  do 
this,  but  somehow  when  I  am  with  you,  I  seem  to 
lose  my  self-control.  I  never  felt  so  before. 
(Crosses  to  r.) 

Macy.     Never?     (Crosses  to  r.  c.) 

Bess.    No,  not  like  this.    What  can  it  be? 

Macy.  My  dear,  it's  the  sweetest  thing  in  the 
world.     It's  love. 

Bess.     I'm  not  sure.    I'm  afraid. 

Macy.     Afraid  of  me? 

Bess.     (Sitting  on  bench)     Yes,  and  of  myself. 

Macv.  (Sitting  on  bench)  You  mean  you  don't 
trust  me? 

Bess.  You  know  I  trust  you,  but  still,  I'm 
afraid. 

Macy.  You  don't  mean  that  you've  changed 
your  mind? 

Bess.    About  going  away? 

Macy.    Yes. 

Bess.     I  have  changed  my  mind,  I  think. 

Macy.     After  your  promise  last  night? 

Bess.     But  Arnold,  I  know  nothing  about  you. 

Macy.  You  know  that  I  have  been  on  the  best 
business  terms  with  your  father  for  years. 

Bess.    Yes,  but  about  yourself. 

Macy.  Well,  look  at  me.  Fairly  prepossessing. 
My  family,  one  of  the  best  in  Manchester,  and  as 
for  money 

Bess.    You  know  I  don't  mean  that. 

Macy.    Then  just  what  do  you  mean? 

Bess.  Yourself — your  Hfe — your  love  affairs. 
Oh,  I'm  not  silly  enough  to  think  you  haven't  had 


46  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

them. 

.    Macy.    Well,  yes.    But  no  real  ones.    This  is  my 

first  real  love.     And  you? 

•   Bess.     You  know  well  enough  what  my  life  has 

heen  in  this  cloister.     Sometimes   I  think   I   shall 

just  scream  with  the  tameness  of  it  all. 

Macy.  But  you've  had  Bellamy.  You've  loved 
him,  haven't  you? 

Bess.  I  thought  so,  until  you  came.  Then  he 
bored  me  with  his  big  ideas,  and  little  pecks  of 
kisses. 

Macy.  (Taking  Bess  by  the  arms  and  kissing 
her)     Then  you'll  come? 

Bess.    Yes ! 

Macy.     Right  away? 

Bess.  Yes,  if  it  is  to  be,  the  sooner  the  better. 
(They  both  rise) 

Macy.     Can  you  get  ready  in  an  hour? 

Bess.  I  think  so,  but  I  can  only  take  a  few 
things. 

Macy.    A  few  is  all  you'll  need. 

Bess.     How  can  I  ever  break  it  to  mother  ? 

Macy.  We'll  write  to  her.  Or  better  still  leave 
a  note  to  be  delivered  after  we  are  safely  out  of 
the  way.     Will  you  do  that? 

Bess.    Yes !     It  will  be  terrible,  but  I'll  do  it. 

Macy.  (Looking  around  cautiously)  Good. 
Now  listen.  (Consults  zvatch)  It  is  almost  ten 
o'clock.  At  quarter  to  eleven,  slip  out  of  the  house 
and  walk  to  the  corner.  I'll  be  waiting  there  with 
an  auto.  We'll  just  be  in  time  to  catch  a  train  for 
the  East. 

Bess.  But  father  will  follow  us.  I  think  he 
would  kill  us  both  if  he  caught  us. 

Macy.  (Taking  Bess  in  his  arms  again)  Let 
him  follow.  He  will  never  get  us.  We  will  take 
the  N.  Y.  Central  to  Albany,  jump  right  on  to  Mon- 
treal and  from  there  take  the  boat  to-morrow  night 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  47 

for  England.     Once  on  board,  we  can  laugh  at  all 

of  them. 

Bess.     {Apprehensively)     And  our  marriage.      • 
Macy.       {Hesitatingly)       Well,     j — j — just     as 

quickly  as  it  can  be  arranged.     Now,  you  won't  fail 

me? 

(Blanche  Dumond  crosses  porch,  to  street  door.) 

Bess.     No. 

Macy.     You  promise? 

Bess.  I  promise.  {Door  hell  rings,  as  Macy 
and  Bess  kiss.  They  break  apart.  Macy  crosses 
to  L.  Bess  crosses  to  r:  BotJi  zvatching  arch  as 
Woman  crosses  from  up  r.  to  street  door,  admit- 
ting Blanche  Dumond.  She  presetits  card  to 
Woman  who  stands  c.  arch  and  waves  her  off  up- 
per R.    Bess  up  r.)     Who  is  that? 

Woman.     A  woman  to  see  your  mother. 

Bess.    What  is  her  name? 

Woman.  {Consulting  card)  This  gives  her 
name  as  Blanche  Dumond. 

Bess.     Blanche  Dumond! 

Macy.     {Down  l.)     Why,  anything  wrong? 

Bess.  {Up  c.)  No,  nothing.  {To  Woman) 
Did  mother  know  who  it  was? 

Woman.    Your  mother  was  expecting  her. 

Macy.  {Formally)  Well,  I'll  look  in  on  you 
again,  Miss  Bradshaw.    Good  morning. 

Bess.     {To  Woman)     Get  Mr.  Macy's  things. 

(Woman  exits  up  r.) 

Macy.     {Crossing  hurriedly  to  Bess  up  c.)    You 
won't  disappoint  me? 
Bess.    No. 

Macy.     In  an  hour,  remember. 
Bess.     I'll  be  there.     (Bess  runs  quickly  up  the 


48  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

stairs.  Macy  turns  and  crosses  down  l.  c.  with  a 
smile  of  satisfaction.  Woman  enters  from  up  r. 
with  Macy's  hat  and  stick  and  comes  dozvn  c. 
Macy  turns  to  exit,  he  is  stopped  by  look  on 
Woman's  face) 

Macy.    By  Jove,  where  have  I  seen  you  before? 

Woman.     In  Paris,  perhaps. 

Macy.    Paris  ? 

Woman.    Or  Berlin. 

Macy.     (Wonderingly)     Berlin? 

Woman.     Or  Moscow. 

Macy.     Now  youVe  joking. 

Woman.     No  indeed,  I  have  travelled  much. 

Macy.     Fve  travelled  too,  but 

Woman.    So  it  is  likely  that  we  have  met  before. 

Macy.  It  is  hardly  probable,  but  you  do  look 
deucedly  familiar,  somehow.  Well,  I'm  off.  (He 
reaches  for  his  hat  and  stick  and  moves  as  if  to 
leave) 

Woman.  (Holding  his  hat  and  stick  aside) 
When  is  she  going? 

Macy.     (Startled)     What  do  you  mean? 

Woman.  When  is  she  going?  Is  it  to-day  or 
to-morrow  ? 

Macy.  So  youVe  overheard^ou  eaves-dropping 
devil.  Fve  a  good  mind  to — (Takes  a  step  toward 
her) 

Woman.  (Unmoved)  Poor  girl,  she  doesn't 
know. 

Macy.    Know  about  what? 

Woman.  About  your  wife  and  children  in 
Southampton. 

Macy.  (Completely  taken  off  his  feet)  How  do 
you  know  that? 

Woman.  I  told  you  it  is  likely  that  we  have  met 
before. 

Macy.    It's  a  lie.     I  have  no  wife. 

Woman.    A  lie?     (She  smiles) 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  49 

Macy.  (Seeing  it  is  useless  to  deny  it)  Now 
see  here,  are  you  going  to  give  me  away  or  not? 

Woman.  What  would  be  the  use.  Would  she 
believe  me,  I  wonder.     (Crosses  down  l.) 

Macy.  Of  course  not.  It  would  be  your  word 
against  mine  and  you  have  no  proof.  Besides — 
(Crosses  to  l.  c.) 

Woman.     Besides — she  loves  you,  you  think. 

Macy.  I  daresay  she  does.  But  here,  I  see  you 
are  the  right  sort  after  all.  (Getting  chummy) 
Did  you  say  you  saw  me  in  Paris? 

Woman.    I  said  I  was  in  Paris. 

Macy.    How  long  ago  ? 

WoisrAN.     Was  it  ten  years  or  longer? 

Macy.  (Taking  a  step  back  and  regarding  her 
curiously)     Strange. 

W^OMAN.     Strange  ? 

Macy.  There^s  something  about  you  that  reminds 
me  of 

Woman.  Of  the  little  girl  you  deserted  af_  St. 
Cloud.   . 

Macy.    By  God,  how  do  you  know  that? 

Woman.    Perhaps,  I  only  dreamed  it. 

Macy.  (In  a  hoarse  whisper)  Say, — who — 
are — you  ? 

Woman.  An  old  friend  and  your  very  humble 
servant.     (Hands  him  hat  and  stick) 

Macy.  And  now  are  you  going  to  tip  this  off  or 
not? 

Woman.     I   will — unless 

Macy.     Unless  what? 

Woman.  Unless  you  promise  to  leave  town  and 
let  this  girl  alone. 

Macy.     (Relieved)     I'll  promise  that,  all  right. 

Woman.    You'll  not  see  her  again  ? 

Macy.    No. 

Woman.    Or  write  to  her  ? 

Macy.     No,  on  the  level.     And  you?    You  are 


50    THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 
sure  you'll- 


WoMAN.  Quite  sure.  Unless  you  break  your 
word. 

Macy.    On  your  honor? 

Woman.  (With  a  bitter  smile)  Honor?  On 
my  honor.  (Macy,  a  mystified  expression  on  his 
face,  turns  and  exits  hurriedly  through  arch  and 
out  street  door.  He  passes  Smollet  and  Bascomb 
on  porch.  They  enter  and  come  down  c.  Woman 
down  L.) 

Smollet.    Is  Mr.  Bradshaw  in? 

Woman.  Not  now,  but  he  left  word  that  he 
would  be  back  presently.     (Woman  crosses  up  c.) 

Smollet.    Thank  you. 

Woman.  Mrs.  Bradshaw  is  engaged  in  the  liv- 
ing room.  Would  you  mind  waiting  here  in  the 
library? 

Smollet.  Not  at  all.  (Woman  takes  Smol- 
let's  hat)     Thank  you. 

(Woman  takes  Bascomb's  hat.) 

Bascomb.    Thank  you. 

Woman.  {Indicating  chairs)  Won't  you  be 
seated  ? 

Smollet.  {Seating  himself  down  r.  c.  on  bench) 
Thank  you  again. 

Bascomb.     {Standing  c.)     Very  kind,  Tm  sure. 

Woman.  I'm  quite  sure  Mr.  Bradshaw  will  re- 
turn shortly.  Meanwhile,  if  there's  anything,  kindly 
ring. 

Smollet.    Thank  you. 

Bascomb.  Thank  you.  (Woman  exits  up  r. 
Bascomb  struts  up  to  arch  and  zvatches  Woman 
down  hall.  Turns  and  comes  down  c.)  Rather  at- 
tractive young  person. 

Smollet.     Very  pleasant  too. 

Bascomb.      {Coming   down)      Something   of   a 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  51 

beauty,  I  should  say,  SmoUet.  Are  you  anything 
of  a  connoisseur  of  these  matters? 

Smollet.  Hardly,  I'll  leave  that  to  your  judicial 
discretion. 

Bascomb.  I'm  afraid  I  am  prejudicial  where 
pretty  women  are  concerned.  As  for  discretion 
well  that  comes  with  years.  And  you  know  I  am 
still  in  my  early  twenties. 

Smollet.    Yes,  you're  getting  younger  every  day. 

Bascomb.  Hardly  that.  But  I  hope  the  time  will 
never  come  when  I  can't  admire  a  pretty  face — or — 
or  figure. 

Smollet.    Amen!     (They  both  laugh) 

Bascomb.  (Goes  up  c.)  This  one  looks  fa- 
miliar.    I've  seen  her  somewhere,  I  think. 

Smollet.     (Accusingly)     Indeed! 

Bascomb.  (Coming  down  c.  Confused)  Some 
other  home,  I  mean.  She's  simply  a  house  maid, 
ii-'n't  she?  Well  it  shows  how  much  confidence  Mrs. 
Bradshaw  has  in  her  husband,  having  svich  pretty 
c:ir:s  about.  Now  my  wife — well,  that's  another 
story.  (Crossing  to  l.  They  both  laugh  again) 
Pleasant  place  Bradshaw  has  here. 

Smollet.     Very,  very  pleasant,  indeed. 

Bascomb.  (Going  around  desk)  Well,  he  de- 
serves it.  He's  what  I  call  a  self-made  man,  if 
there  ever  was  one.  Full  of  real  American  stuflF. 
Has  the  courage  of  his  convictions  too.  This  proves 
that.  (He  indicates  front  page  article  in  news- 
paper which  he  carries) 

Smollet.  Genuinely  successful.  I'd  call  h:m. 
Plenty  of  money,  which  he  earned  for  himself.  A 
fine  family.  Wife  any  man  would  be  proud  of. 
beautiful  daughter  and  promising  son. 

Bascomb.  Seems  to  have  achieved  happiness  if 
there  is  any  such  commodity  in  this  world. 

Smollet.    And  a  God-fearing,  charitable  citizen. 


52  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

(Bradshaw  and  Bellamy  cross  porch.) 

Bascomb.  Let  us  hope  that  God  will  not  play 
the  trick  on  him  he  did  on  our  old  friend  Job. 

Smollet.  Whom  the  Lord  loveth,  He  chasteneth. 
(Bradshaw  enters  hurriedly  through  arch,  Bel- 
lamy follozvs  him.  Bradshaw  comes  down  c. 
Bellamy  goes  around  desk  to  chair  dozvn  l.)  Ah! 
Brother  Bradshaw. 

Bradshaw.  Well,  gentlemen !  Smollet,  I'm  glad 
to  see  you.  Judge,  it's  good  of  you  to  come.  You 
know  Mr.  Bellamy  of  The  Star?  A  friend  of 
Paul's. 

(Both  nod  to  Bellamy.) 

Bascomb.  (To  Bradshaw)  We  came  over  to 
congratulate  you  on  this.  (He  indicates  article  in 
paper) 

Smollet.  It's  splendid.  The  whole  town  is  talk- 
ing about  it. 

Bascomb.    It  has  the  right  ring  to  it. 

Bradshaw.  I  said  what  I  believed  to  be  the 
truth.  Rev.  Smollet  and  I  discussed  it  last  night. 
Since  then,  I  have  wondered  if  I  shouldn't  have 
modified  it  in  one  or  two  particulars. 

Smollet.  Certainly  not.  It's  the  climax;  the 
top-sheaf  of  our  campaign. 

Bascomb.  It's  the  last  gun  in  our  fight  against 
legalized  prostitution,  and  we  are  all  proud  to  have 
fought  under  so  gallant  a  captain.  (Bascomb 
bows  and  sits  in  chair  L.  c.) 

(Smollet  sits  in  chair  r.  c.) 

Bradshaw.  Gentlemen,  you  overwhelm  me.  I 
hope  that  we  have  acted  wisely.  And  now  if  you'll 
excuse  me,  I  want  to  have  a  word  with  my  son. 
(Starts  to  cross  r.) 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  53 

Smollet.  Perhaps  we  had  better  be  going.  {He 
starts  to  rise) 

Bradshaw.  Please  don't.  I'll  only  be  a  moment. 
I  think  he  is  in  here  somewhere.  {Crosses  to  door 
R.)     Ah!     Paul.      {Exits  through  door) 

Bascomb.  What  did  he  mean  by  saying  "  I  hope 
we  have  acted  wisely  ?  "  Can  there  be  any  doubt 
of  it? 

Bellamy.  {At  chair  dozvn  l.)  Evidently  Mr. 
Bradshaw  is  beginning  to  think  so.  Has  it  occurred 
to  you  gent'emen,  that  there  are  two  sides  to  this 
question  ? 

Bascomb.    Two  sides  to  what  question? 

Bellamy.    To  the  tenderloin  question? 

Bascomb.  Two  sides.  Sure  two  sides,  the  right 
side  and  the  wrong  side. 

Bellamy.  {With  a  light  laugh)  Just  that. 
There  are  a  lot  of  people  of  intelligence,  doctors 
amon<7  them,  and  certainly  many  mothers,  who  be- 
lieve that  all  this  has  been  a  big  mistake.  {He  indi- 
cates newspaper  zvhich  Bascomb  holds) 

Smollet.  {Rising)  '  You're  assuredly  not  one 
of  thein.  Mr.  Bellamy? 

Bellamy.  Pm  not  so  certain  about  it.  {Cross- 
ing to  c.)  In  my  business  I  get  a  pretty  good  slant 
at  both  sides.  You  know,  don't  you,  that  these 
women  are  not  leaving  town.  They  are  merely 
scattering.  Lots  of  people  are  hollering  to  the  po- 
lice already  because  their  neighborhoods  are  being 
invaded. 

Bascomb.  {Laughing  heartily)  Hollering?  Let 
'em  holler,  eh,  Smollet? 

Smollet.  Well,  I  hope  what  Mr.  Bellamy  says 
is  not  altogether  true.  The  chief  of  police  assures 
me  that  most  of  the  women  will  be  forced  out  of 
the  town. 

Bellamy.  That's  probably  what  the  Chief  hopes. 
(Bradshaw  enters  through  door  down  r.)      But 


54  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

ril  bet  he  knows  better.  {Crosses  to  Bradshaw  up 
R.    Smollet  crosses  to  Bascomb  l.  c.) 

Bradshaw.  {Aside  to  Bellamy)  It's  all  right. 
Paul  has  agreed  to  go  away.  Now  you'll  do  your 
part,  won't  you? 

Bellamy.  I  sure  will.  I  know  how  to  pull  the 
strings  to  keep  the  whole  thing  out  of  print.  Good- 
bye.    {They  shake  hands) 

Bradshaw.  Good-bye  and  thank  you.  (Brad- 
shaw crosses  up  to  arch) 

Bellamy.  {Coming  dozvn  c.)  Well,  good 
morning,  gentlemen.  I'm  sorry  we  can't  prolong 
the  argument.  (Smollet  crosses  to  R.  c.)  I  have 
facts  up  my  sleeve  that  would  amaze  you. 

Bascomb.  {Banteringly)  You  newspaper  men 
are  a  menace  to  the  community. 

Bellamy.  Except  when  you're  running  for 
office,  eh  Judge?  Or  when  good  Samaritans  like 
Mr.  Smollet  need  publicity  for  their  New  Year's 
Eve  Grill-room  Crusades,  eh  Reverend?  Well, 
good  morning.  {He  exits  through  arch  and  out 
street  door) 

Smollet.     He's  a  precocious  young  fellow. 

Bascomb.  {Rising)  Precocious?  He  is  posi- 
tively pestiferous.  (Bradshaw  comes  down)  He's 
been  actually  telling  us,  Bradshaw,  that  we've  made 
a  mistake  in  this  whole  campaign. — Gleason  and 
all. 

Bradshaw.  We  have  made  no  mistake  gentle- 
men, I  hope.  {Crosses  down  l.)  But  certain 
things  have  happened  that  make  me  wish  I  had  not 
taken  such  a  prominent  part  in  it.  I  had  a  great 
sorrow  come  to  me  last  night  and  to-day  I  have  had 
another.  {Crosses  to  hack  of  desk)  Together 
they  seem  greater  than  I  can  bear. 

Smollet.  Why,  my  dear  friend,  I  never  dreamt 
that  anything  had  happened. 

Bascomb.    I'm  sorry  to  hear  you  say  this.    Only 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  55 


ci  moment  ago 

Martha.  (Entering  from  tip  R.  followed  by 
Blanche  Dumond,  they  move  tozuard  outside  door 
then  pause,  confer  a  moment  and  the^i  come  dozvn) 
May  I  interrupt  your  conference  to  introduce  some- 
one whom  I  daresay  has  a  very  vital  interest  in 
it?  Gentlemen,  this  is  Miss  Dumond.  (Pause) 
Miss  Dumond,  my  husband. 

Dumond.  (Up  r.  c.)  How  do  you  do?  (Nod- 
ding at  Bradshaw) 

Bradshaw.  (Stiffly.  Dozvn  l.)  How  do  you 
do. 

Martha.  (Up  l.  c.)  This  is  Reverend  Smol- 
let.  (Pause.  Smollet  bozi^s  coldly)  And  this 
is  Judge  Bascomb. 

Bascomb.  (Adz'ancing)  I  am  pleased  to  know 
you,  Madame  er — Miss. 

Martha.  (Embarrassed  and  crossing  to  chair 
L.  c.)  Miss  Dumond  promised  that  she  would  come 
and  tell  me  about  that  poor  girl  I  spoke  of. 

Bradshaw.     Indeed ! 

Martha.  (To  Miss  Dumond)  Won't  you  sit 
down? 

Dumond.  (Sits  in  chair  r.  c.)  Yes,  it  all  turned 
out  splendidly.  Her  father  came  from  down  state, 
forgave  her  and  took  her  back  home. 

(Mrs.   Bradshaw  arranges  chair  and  sits  l.   c.) 

Bradshaw.  I'm  very  glad  to  hear  it,  (He  sits 
in  chair  dozvn  l.    Smollet  sits  on  bench) 

Dumond.  We  were  all  very  happy  about  it.  It 
was  a  pathetic  case.  We  were  so  glad  to  have 
been  able  to  help  her. 

Martha.  Miss  Dumond  has  just  been  telling 
me  that  she  is  about  to  leave  the  city. 

Smollet.    Indeed  ? 

Dumond.     Yes.     In  the  light  of  recent  events, 


56  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

I  think  it  better,  don't  you? 

Smollet.     Undoubtedly  you  are  acting  wisely. 

DuMOND.     I  think  so.     At  least  for  the  present. 

Bascomb.  (Comes  down  l.  c.  with  chair  and 
sits)  May  I  be  so  bold  as  to  inquire  where  you  pro- 
pose locating? 

DuMOND.  Most  certainly.  I  have  bought  a  very 
attractive  country  place  near  Sedgwick,  only  a  few 
miles  west  of  town.  I  shall  raise  lots  of  chickens, 
(Pause)   and  serve  dinners  to  automobile  parties. 

Bascomb.  I  see.  They  call  it  a  roadhouse,  don't 
they? 

DuMOND.  That's  it.  May  I  count  on  your  pa- 
tronage, judge? 

Bascomb.  (Raising  his  hand  protestingly)  Oh, 
my  dear  woman 

DuMOND.     (Smiling)     Yes,  I  see  perfectly. 

Smollet.  T  trust  that  you  will  be  glad  to  get 
into  new  fields. — That  is  out  of  your  old  environ- 
ment. 

DuMOND.  Personally,  I  shall  be  glad,  though  of 
course  I  can't  speak  for  the  others.  And  person- 
ally, I  trust  that  you  men  are  acting  wisely,  al- 
though, as  I  have  already  told  Mrs.  Bradshaw,  I 
have  my  serious  doubts. 

Smollet.  It  is  because  women  like  you  feel 
that  we  are  wrong,  that  makes  us  so  certain  that 
we  are  right. 

DuMOND.  (With  winning  smile)  Now  isn't 
that  a  little  unkind.  Reverend  Smollet  ?  You  should 
be  generous  enough  to  believe  that  my  doubts  are 
based  on  considerations  other  than  my  own  private 
interests. 

Smollet.  And  these  considerations,  may  I  ask, 
what  they  are? 

DuMOND.  The  facts  of  thousands  of  years  of 
experimenting  in  just  this  sort  of  thing. 

Bascomb.     Experimenting,  indeed!     (He  moves 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  57 

his  chair  a  little  closer) 

DuMOND.  Experimenting. — just  that.  Experi- 
menting in  ways  and  means  to  do  away  with  the 
so-called  social  evil.  Now  you're  a  well  read  rnan, 
Juds^e,  and  you  know  that  in  the  classic  civilizations 
of  Greece  and  Rome  the  Courtesans  were  accepted 
as  a  prominent  factor  in  the  social  organization.  To 
serve  in  the  Temple  of  Venus  in  those  days  was  an 
exalted  callinf^^.  Reverend  Smo.'let  knows  that  the 
Bible  is  filled  with  stories  of  concubinage,  illicit 
loves  and  crimes  of  lust  and  coming  down  to  later 
days,  I  find  in  the  history  of  New  England  that  our 
own  virgin  country  was  overcrowded  with  prosti- 
tutes as  far  back  as  1630.  It  looks  as  though  sorne 
of  the  sly  old  Puritans  had  smuggled  some  of  their 
English  '"  Cousins  "  over  in  the  Mayflower.  Oh, 
I've  been  reading  a  lot  on  this  subject  lately. 

Smollet.     And  your  conclusion  is 

DuMOND.  My  conclusion  is  that  if  it  were  pos- 
sible to  stop  prostitution,  it  would  have  been  stopped 
long  ago.  And  in  my  humble  opinion  it  can  never 
be  stopped,  until  we  change  human  nature.  And  I 
hardly  think  we  can  do  that. 

Bascomb.  {Leaning  tozvards  Dumond)  No — 
hardly — {Shaking  his  head) 

Dumond.  {To  Bascomb)  And — You'll  par- 
don me 

Bascomb.  Oh  that's  all  right.  Go  right  ahead. 
Go  right  ahead. 

Dumond.  And  so  if  you'll  grant  that  the  ele- 
mental things  in  human  nature  can't  be  changed  to 
any  great  extent,  you  must  agree  that  it  is  absolutely 
impossible  to  stamp  out  the  sins  that  arise  from 
these  natural  impulses.  Now  these  two  facts  ad- 
mitted, the  only  thing  left  to  decide  is  whether  it  is 
better  for  a  city  to  set  apart  a  district  where  all 
women  who  elect  to  lead  this  historic  calling — must 
reside,  or,  do  as  you  are  now  doing,  wipe  out  such  a 


58  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

(•istrict  and  drive  its  residents  to  all  other  parts  of 
the  city.  Pm  on  one  side  of  that  question  and  youVe 
on  the  other,  so  there  is  no  more  to  be  said.  (She 
rises) 

(They  all  rise  except  Bradshaw.) 

Smollet.  (Striding  down  r.)  And  have  you 
no  sense  of  shame  for  the  part  that  you  have  played 
— no  desire  to  lead  a  good  life? 

DuMOND.  Possibly.  But  Pm  like  a  lot  of  your 
parishoners,  always  putting  it  off  until  to-morrow. 

(Bascomb  backs  up  c.  with  chair.) 

Smollet.  (Sharply)  But  the  stigma  of  it.  T 
should  think  you  would  blush  to  be  abroad  in  the 
daylight. 

DuMOND.  Blush?  Indeed,  I  am  glad  not  to  have 
forgotten  how.  I  am  blushing  now  for  you,  Rev- 
erend Smollet,  that  you  so  far  forget  your  gallantry. 

vSmollet.  You  may  spare  your  blushes,  if  they 
are  for  me,  Miss  Duniond.  I  }iave  no  gallantries 
for  women  of  your — profession. 

DuMOND.  (Banteringly)  You  may  insult  me. 
Reverend  Smollet,  but  do  not  slander  my — profes- 
sion. It  is  the  oldest  in  the  world.  It's  older  than 
history  itself.  It's  as  old  as  mythology.  Venus, 
(The  Aphrodite  of  the  Greeks)  was  its  goddess, 
and  temples  have  been  raised  to  her  in  all  the  ages. 
History  is  filled  with  the  names  of  her  illustrious  de- 
votees. 

Smollet.  Illustrious !  (He  sniffs  contemptu- 
ously) 

DuMOND.  Illustrious,  yes.  Names  that  have 
changed  the  map  of  the  world — women's  names — 
disciples  of  Aphrodite! 

Smollet.     (Turning  sharply)     What  names? 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  59 

DuMOND.  Well,  an  old  friend  of  our  school-book 
days,  Helen  of  Troy,  is  one. 

Smollet.     a  myth  like  your  Aphrodite. 

DuMOND.  Possibly.  But  Cleopatra  was  real, 
wasn't  she?  I  believe  Marc  Anthony  found  her  so. 
And  Aspasia,  the  classic  mistress  of  Pericles;  Lais 
who  held  the  keys  to  the  Eleusinian  mysteries; 
Phryne,  the  model  of  Praxitiles ;  Du  Barry  and 
Pompadour,  Katherine  of  Russia,  makers  and 
wreckers  of  thrones.  That  choice  spirit  of  her  day 
Lola  Montez — Nell  Gwynn,  the  pet  of  princes--- 
Ninon  De  L'  Enclos 

Smollet.  A  brilliant  constellation!  Haven't 
you  omitted  Camille? 

DuMOND.  (Smiling  sweetly)  I  was  just  coming 
to  her  when  you  interrupted. 

Smollet.  Pooh!  (He  makes  a  deprecatory  ges- 
ture and  turns  from  her  as  though  tired  of  the  ar- 
gument, walks  up  atid  down  r.) 

Bascomb.  (Gallantly  coming  down  c.)  Permit 
me  to  remark,  Madame,  that  while  I  cannot  agree 
with  you  I  must  observe  that  you  are  a  woman  of 
education  and — er — refinement. 

DuMOND.  Thank  you  so  much.  I  have  had  many 
advantages.  My  story  might  interest  you,  (Bas- 
comb leans  forward)  but  it's  a  little  too  long  to  ten 
to-day.  Now  when  you  come  to  my  farm,  perhaps^- 
(The  Judge  lifts  his  hatid  protestingly)  Oh,  don't 
be  afraid.  I  have  entertained  in  my  home,  men  oc- 
cupying the  highest  social  positions. 

Bascomb.  I  dare  say.  I  dare  say.  (Turns  and 
crosses  up  c.) 

Dumond.  (Crossing  to  Mrs.  Bradshaw  down 
L.  c.)     Thank  you  for  allowing  me  to  come. 

Martha.  We  shall  all  be  interested  to  hear  how 
you  get  on  in  your — your  new  field.  (Crosses  up 
to  arch) 

DuMOND.    Thank  you.    I  shall  keep  you  informed. 


6o  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

{To  Bradshaw)  Good  day.  {Turns  and  goes 
up  c.)  I  have  my  car  at  the  door  if  either  of  you 
gentlemen  wish  to  go  over  town. 

Smollet.  {Sharply)  Thank  you.  We  have  an 
appointment. 

DuMOND.  {Up  R.  c.)  Oh  don't  be  afraid.  It's 
a  closed  car. 

Bascomb.  {Down  l.  c.)  Our  engagement  is  with 
Mr.  Gleason. 

DuMOND.  Mr.  Gleason.  Vm  so  sorry  not  to 
have  had  the  pleasure  of  meeting  him.  I  have  so 
much  enjoyed  his  sermons. 

Smollet.  I'm  glad  to  hear  you  say  that,  at 
least. 

DuMOND.  Yes,  they  are  really  edifying.  They 
add  so  much  to  one's  vocabulary  of  slang.  Good 
morning,     {To  Smollet) 

Smollet.    Good-bye. 

Bascomb.     Good  morning. 

DuMOND.  Au  Revoir.  (Dumond  exits  through 
street  door.  Bascomb  crosses  to  windozv  and 
watches  her  off.  Mrs.  Bradshaw  lets  her  out  and 
closes  street  door.    Comes  back  to  c.  of  arch) 

Martha.    You'll  excuse  me. 

Smollet.    Certainly. 

^They  bow,    Mrs.  Bradshaw  exits  up  the  stairs.) 

Bradshaw.  So  that's  the  notorious  Blanche  Du- 
mond. I've  been  sitting  here  trying  to  figure  her 
out. 

Bascomb.  Well,  what  do  you  make  of  her? 
Rather  an  unusual  woman  I  should  say. 

Bradshaw.  She  upsets  a  lot  of  my  ideas.  She's 
so  different  from  what  I  had  imagined. 

Smollet.  That's  what  makes  women  of  her  type 
so  dangerous.  She  wears  a  veneer  of  culture  and 
gentility — and  beneath  it  is 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  6i 

Bradshaw.     (Rather  sharply)     Is  what? 

Smollet.  Poof !  (A  little  cry  of  disgust.  When 
properly  done  one  of  the  best  laughs  in  the  play) 

Bradshaw.  I  imagine  that  after  all  she  is  a  good 
deal  like  other  women.  No  doubt  she  has  her  own 
ideas  of  honesty?  If  we  knew  more  about  her, 
we  could  judge  her  better. 

Smollet.  (Consulting  watch)  You  know  we 
mustn't  keep  Gleason  waiting.  This  is  to  be  the 
final  meeting  of  the  Committee.  Let's  hurry,  gen- 
tlemen.    (Crosses  ut>  to  arch) 

Bradshaw.  (Rising  and  crossing  to  arch)  I'll 
walk  over  with  you.  but  only  for  a  moment 

(Bascomb  stands  down  l.  c.) 

Bascomb.     Chicken  farm.      (He  chuckles) 

Bradshaw.      (From  arch)     Coming  Judge? 

Bascomb.  Yes,  yes.  (To  himself)  Chicken 
farm.  (He  goes  up  and  the  three  men  exit  ad 
lib.  through  street  door.  Bess  comes  down  the 
stairs  glancing  around  zvith  a  nervous  expression 
on  her  face.  She  has  changed  her  dress  to  suit. 
She  crosses  quickly  to  chair  at  right  of  desk,  sits 
and  writes  note.  Woman  enters  from  r.  and  crosses 
down  L.  c,  stands  unobserved.  Bess  finishes  note, 
rises,  turns  and  starts  guiltily) 

Bess.    Oh,  it's  you  is  it  ?    Spying  on  me  as  usual. 

Woman.  I  wasn't  spying  on  you.  You  wanted 
me  didn't  you? 

Bess.  No,  I  didn't  want  you,  but  since  you  are 
here,  you  may  give  this  note  to  my  mother. 

Woman.     You  see  you  did  want  me,  after  all. 

Bess.  Give  this  to  my  mother  in  fifteen  minutes. 
Exactly  eleven  o'clock.  Not  a  minute  before.  You 
understand  ? 

Woman.     (Ignoring  the  note)     At  eleven?    Do 


62  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

you  think  you  will  be  safely  away  by  then? 

Bess.  Vm  not  going  away.  This  note  is  about 
something  else. 

Woman.  If  he  really  cared  for  you,  do  you 
think  he  would  ask  you  to  do  a  thing  like  this? 

Bess.  So  you  have  been  spying.  He  does  care. 
What  business  is  it  of  yours,  anyway? 

The  Woman.  It's  any  woman's  business  when 
some  girl  is  about  to  make  a  big  mistake. 

Bess.  You've  found  out  so  much,  why  didn't 
you  listen  a  little  longer  and  you  would  know  that 
we  are  to  be  married  and  I'm  not  making  any  mis- 
take at  all. 

The  Woman.  And  you  believe  that?  You 
think  that  he  will  marry  you. 

Bess.  (Attempting  to  pass)  Of  course  he  will. 
He's  promised. 

The  Woman.  (Seeking  to  detain  her)  Prom- 
ised! I'd  hoped  you'd  listen.  You're  young  and 
he — well  he  is  so  much  older — so  much  more  of 
the  world.     I  am  afraid 

Bess.  You're  not  paid  to  give  advice.  Do  you 
think  I'm  a  child  to 

The  Woman.  Ah,  that's  it.  You  are  a  child 
and  I — Wont  you  listen,  please. 

Bess.  (Passing  her)  No,  no  matter  what  you'd 
say,  I'd  not  believe  you. 

The  Woman.  Of  course  you  wouldn't.  My 
dear,  since  the  world  began,  nobody's  experiences 
have  been  worth  anything  to  anybody  else.  (Bess 
exits  still  carrying  note)  And  that's  the  pity  of  it  1 
(The  Woman  goes  up  as  if  to  exit.  Paul  enters 
suddenly  through  door  down  r.  He  carries  a  suit- 
case, his  hat  and  light  overcoat) 

Paul.  (Down  r.)  Say  you!  I'm  going  to  fix 
you  for  tipping  father  off  to  that  little  affair  of  mine. 

Woman.     (Up  c.)     Fix  me?    How? 

Paul.    I'll  have  you  fired. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  63 

Woman.    You  mean  discharged? 

Paul.    Yes,  I  mean  discharged. 

Woman.  When.  Before  you  go  to  prison,  or 
after? 

Paul.  That's  pretty  fresh.  I'm  not  going  to 
serve  any  time. 

Woman.    Then  your  father 

Paul.     Yes,  the  governor  has  squared  it. 

Woman.     And  the  bank 

Paul.  Will  not  prosecute,  thank  you.  It's 
tickled  to  death  to  get  back  the  coin. 

Woman.     And  your  position? 

Paul.  Position?  It  wasn't  a  position.  It  was 
a  job.  I'm  glad  to  get  an  excuse  to  take  a  little 
vacation.      {Crosses  to  l.  c.) 

Woman.     Then  you're  going  away? 

Paul.  Yes,  the  governor  thinks  it  best  for  me 
to  take  a  little  trip  until  this  blows  over. 

W^oman.  a  trip?  And  the  woman.  Is  she  go- 
ing with  you? 

Paul.  I  guess  she's  not.  Do  you  suppose  the 
governor  would  stand  for  that?  He  has  made  me 
promise  to  pass  her  up. 

Woman.    You  are  going  to  leave  her? 

Paul.    Flat.     {Sits  in  chair  l.  c.) 

Woman.     And  you're  not  sorry. 

Paul.  Sure,  I'm  sorry.  She's  a  good  sort.  Btit 
where  do  I  get  off  if  I  stick  to  her?  I've  got  to 
look  after  No.  i  haven't  I  ? 

Woman.     But  she  really  cares  for  you. 

Paul.  Of  course  she  does, — naturally.  But 
don't  you  see  I  have  no  choice?  The  governor 
said  nix,  and  made  me  take  all  kinds  of  pirate  oaths 
before  he'd  loosen  up. 

Woman.  {Crossing  to  c.)  You  mean  he 
wouldn't  pay  the  money  unless  you  promised? 

Paul.     That's  the  big  idea. 


64         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Woman.  And  the  woman,  what's  to  become  of 
her? 

Paul.  What's  that  to  me?  (Rises  and  crosses 
to  R.)  She  can  win  another  home.  With  her  looks 
and  figure,  it's  a  cinch. 

Woman.  (Crossing  to  Paul)  And  yet  she  gave 
up  everything  for  you,  didn't  she  ? 

Paul.  If  you  call  that  boob  of  a  husband  every- 
thing— yes. 

Woman.  But  she  gave  up  her  friends.  (Bess 
starts  down  the  stairs  with  travelling  bag)  Her 
respectability,  her  good  name.  And  she  was  a  good 
woman  until  you  came  into  her  life,  wasn't  she? 

Paul.  Oh,  I  suppose  so.  But  what's  the  idea? 
Why  are  you — (Crossing  to  Woman  c.)  Say,  you've 
got  a  nerve  to  pull  this  kind  of  talk  with  me. — Cut 
it.  (Crosses  to  r.  c,  takes  out  cigarette.  Bess 
crosses  porch  as  Woman  turns  from  Paul  and  sees 
her.  Woman  crosses  up  to  window  and  watches 
Bess  off,  indicating  her  sorrow) 

Paul.  (Crosses  to  door  down  r.  Picks  up  suitcase, 
coat  and  hat  and  starts  to  exit,  he  sizes  up  Woman 
standing  in  zvindoiv  and  stops,  puts  dozvn  suitcase, 
coat  arid  hat  up  r.  c.)     Say,  by  the  way 

Woman.    (Still  in  window)    Yes  ? 

Paul.  (Up  r.  c.)  There's  nothing  in  my  deal 
with  the  old  man  that  says  I  can't  have  another  girl. 

Woman.     Indeed ! 

Paul.  The  idea  just  hit  me.  You  know  I've 
got  a  big  bundle  of  money  and  my  only  instructions 
are  to  beat  it  until  this  bank  thing  blows  over. 
There's  nothing  in  my  sailing  orders  that  says  I 
can't  take  a  companion  with  me.  (Woman  comes 
down  and  Paul  takes  a  step  towards  her)  What  do 
you  say  to  a  little  honeymoon  at  French  Lick? 
What  do  you  say? 

Woman.     (Coming  to  Paul  c.)     Honeymoon? 

Paul.    Yes! 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  65 

Woman.     Are  you  asking  me  to  marry  you? 

Paul.  Marry  you?  Certainly  not.  You  get 
me  don't  you?  A  little  trip  to  French  Lick,  just 
you  and  me.    Come  on,  you'll  not  be  sorry. 

Woman.  (Crossing  down  l.)  You  want  me 
to  go  away  with  you? 

Paul.  No,  not  with  me.  I'll  beat  it  to-day  and 
you  can  make  your  getaway  to-morrow.  (Woman 
crosses  to  l.  c.)  We  can  fix  it  all  up  in  advance, 
and  arrange  our  meeting  place  so  there'll  be  no  slip- 
up.    Will  you  go?     (Crossing  to  Woman) 

Woman.    Of  course  not. 

Paul.  Quit  stalling.  There  is  more  than  enough 
here  for  both  of  us.  (Taps  his  hand  on  right  hand 
trousers  pocket)  You  know  you're  worth  it  too. 
(He  attempts  to  embrace  her) 

Woman.  Can't  you  see  that  I  don't  want  you 
to  do  that? 

Paul.  (With  surprise)  You  don't  want  me 
even  to  kiss  you?    You,  a  servant! 

Woman.  Of  course  not.  Why  should  you? 
(Crossing  to  R.) 

Paul.  (Crossing  to  Woman)  Well  I'll  be — 
Who  do  you  think  you  are? 

Woman.    You  have  said,  I  am  a  servant. 

Paul.  But  I  don't  think  you  are.  You  look  too 
slick  to  suit  me.  I  think  you're  a  plant  here  for 
some  crook,  that's  what  I  think  you  are,  and  I'm 
going  to  put  the  governor  next.  Besides,  you've 
got  a  wallop  coming  to  you  for  spilling  that  stuff 
about  Ruth.  (Looks  her  over  carefully)  You 
know,  I've  got  a  sneaking  notion  I've  seen  you 
somewhere  before.     Your  eyes  remind  me 

Woman.     Oh,  yes,  my  eyes- 


Paul.    They  remind  me  of  a  girl- 


Otto.      (Entering  through  door  down  r.,   hur- 
riedly)    There  is  an  officer  at  the  side  door,  sir. 
Paul.      (Nervously)      A   police   officer?     Who 


(^         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

does  he  want  to  see? 

Otto.     He  wants  to  see  Mr.  Bradshaw. 

Paul.  (To  Woman  c.)  Maybe  the  governor 
hasn't  squared  that  thing  after  all  (To  Otto) 
Have  him  come  in  here.  Fll  see  him.  (He  crosses 
to  desk  L.  and  lights  cigarette.  Woman  crosses 
up  to  window.     Otto  exits) 

Woman.     Perhaps  it's  about  something  else. 

Paul.    Gad,  I  hope  so. 

Otto.  (Entering  down  r.)  The  officer,  sir. 
(Burke  enters  and  crosses  to  r.  c.     Otto  exits) 

Burke.    Are  you  Bradshaw? 

Paul.  (Trying  to  put  on  a  brave  front)  I  am 
Mr.  Bradshaw,  jr. 

Burke.  Well,  I  guess  it's  your  old  man  I  ought 
to  see. 

Paul.  What  is  it  about?  You  can  tell  it  to  me 
I  guess. 

Burke.  It's  about  a  skirt  you  have  workin' 
here.  I  was  sent  to  get  a  line  on  her.  (He  produces 
a  blank  form) 

Paul.  (Obviously  relieved)  Oh,  is  that  what 
you  have  come  here  for?  A  girl?  Yes,  we  have 
several  girls  working  here.     What  about  this  one? 

Burke.  This  'un  come  yesterday  accordin'  to 
our  tip.  Did  you  have  a  dame  start  in  here  yes- 
terday ? 

Paul.  (Glancing  at  Woman)  Yes,  I  believe  so. 
What  about  her? 

Burke.  Well  accordin'  to  this  dope  sheet,  her 
name  is  Elsie  Packard.  (He  reads)  Height  5 
feet,  2  inches ;  weight  about  120  pounds ;  hair  light ; 
eyes  dark ;  rather  good-looking ;  age  between  twenty 
and  twenty-five. 

Paul.  (Thinking  his  suspicions  about  the  crook 
plant  are  about  to  be  realized)  Yes,  that  descrip- 
tion fits  her.    What's  she  done? 

Burke.    It's  up  to  me  to  tip  you  off  that  for  the 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  67 

last  few  weeks  she's  been  a  regular  visitor  it 
houses  of  prostitution  on  West  Street.  (Paul 
whistles)  If  the  Jane  is  here,  I'd  like  to  look  her 
over. 

Woman.     (Coming  dozvn  c.)     I  am  the  woman. 

Burke.  Now  don't  kid  yourself  you're  tellincj 
me  something.  I  made  you  the  minute  I  lamped 
you  through  the  door.  (To  Paul)  You  see,  kid, 
we  learn  to  know  'em  by  sight. 

Woman.     And  you  never  make  mistakes? 

Burke.     Not  on  cinches  like  this. 

Woman.  And  does  that  say  why  I  visited  the 
houses  it  mentions. 

Burke.  It  don't  have  to  say.  Don't  you  sup- 
pose  

Woman.  Then  the  police  do  make  mistakes — 
sometimes.       Well,  what  is  it  you  want  me  to  do? 

Burke.  The  first  thing,  I  want  to  wise  these 
people  up  to  who  you  are. 

Woman.     Yes,  and  after  that? 

Burke.  [Crossing  to  Woman)  And  after  that, 
I  want  you  to  report  at  headquarters,  just  where 
you  beat  it  to  next. 

Woman.     But  suppose  I  stay  here? 

Burke.  Well,  if  you  stick  here,  you're  to  kick  in 
with  the  weekly  report  thing  just  the  same.  (7'(? 
Paul)  Say,  she's  got  a  swell  chance  of  stickin' 
here  once  the  old  gent  gets  hep. 

Paul.  No,  I'm  afraid  not.  The  governor  would 
have  seven  kinds  of  fits. 

Burke.  (Folding  up  his  paper,  and  giving  the 
Woman  a  warning  look)  Get  this  now  and  get 
it  straight.  It's  little  bright  eyes  to  the  station  once 
a  week,  or  we'll  be  backin'  the  wagon  up  for  you. 
You  make  me,  don't  you? 

Woman.     I  shall  remember. 

Burke.      (Looks   in   Woman's   eyes   and   then 


6S         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

filances  away  mystified)     How  do  you  get  out  of 
here  ? 

Paul.  (Crossing  to  door  dozvn  r.)  Just  a  min- 
ute. I'll  show  you.  The  same  door.  Can  you  find 
the  way? 

Burke.  Sure.  Don't  agitate  yourself.  {Cross- 
ing to  door)  I'll  leave  it  to  you  to  tip  the  old  gent 
off. 

Paul.     Sure,  you  can  trust  me  to  do  that. 
Burke.     Good  morning.     {He  exits) 
Paul.     {Closes  door,  txirns  and  looks  at  Woman 
down    c.)      And    you    wouldn't    go    with    me    to 
French  Lick? 
Woman.     No. 
Paul.     Now  will  you  go? 
Woman.     No. 

Paul.  {Arrogantly)  Oh,  I  guess  you  will. 
{Crosses  to  Woman)  You'll  go  or  I'll  tip  you  off 
to  the  old  man;  you  know  what  he  thinks  of  girls 
in  your  line  of  business.  Why,  he's  bossing  this 
whole  campaign  right  now,  to  put  the  Tenderloin 
out  of  commission.  Gad,  it's  a  great  joke  on  him 
to  have  you  here.  {He  laughs  uproariously)  Come 
on,  how  long  will  it  take  you  to  get  your  things 
together  ? 

Woman.  {Down  l.)  I  told  you  I'm  not  going. 
Paul.  {Crosses  to  l.  c.)  Forget  that.  Oh, 
I  get  you  now.  I  see  where  I'm  in  wrong.  You 
want  to  know  how  I'm  going  to  split  the  bank  roll 
with  you?  {He  produces  the  money)  Here,  how 
much  is  your  time  worth?  {She  pulls  away  in  dis- 
gust and  Paul  grabs  her  arm)  No  you  don't.  What 
are  you  trying  to  pull  with  me,  anyway?  (Brad- 
SHAW  crosses  porch  and  enters  quietly,  unobserved) 
I'm  not  a  guy  that  takes  "  No "  for  an  answer. 
Especially  from  your  kind.  A  minute  ago  you 
wouldn't  even  give  me  a  kiss  and  I  was  afraid  to 
take  it  for  fear  you'd  make  a  squawk.    I  guess  you 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  69 

won't  do  any  squawking  now.  {He  takes  her  in  his 
arms  and  forces  her  across  table  kissing  her  repeat- 
edly. Bradsiiaw  comes  down  from  arch  pufple 
zvith  rage) 

Bradshaw.    Paul ! 

Paul.     (Springing  away  from  Woman)     You! 

Bradshaw.  How  dare  you  do  a  thing  like  this 
in  my  house.  An  hour  ago  I  saved  you  from  the 
penitentiary,  saved  you  a  thief — a  common  thief, 
and  now  I  come  and  find  this.  I  could  forgive  you 
the  other  but  for  this — this  bestiality  there  is  no 
forgiveness.  I  see  you've  packed  your  things.  Now 
take  them  and  get  out.  Get  out  and  stay  out.  (He 
points  to  the  door) 

Paul.  But  father,  you  don't  know — you  don't 
know  who  this  woman  is. 

Bradshaw.     I  don't  care. 

Paul.  (Crossing  up  to  Bradshaw)  But  you 
would  care  if  you  knew.  Only  a  minute  ago  a 
policeman 

Bradshaw.  Will  you  go?  Or  must  I  put  you 
out  by  force?     (Crosses  to  street  door  and  opens  it) 

Paul.     Father ! 

Bradshavv^.  Pick  up  that  suitcase.  (Paul 
obeys  mechanically)  Now,  get  out  of  my  house, 
and  as  long  as  you  live  never  enter  it  again. 

Paul.    Dad ! 

Bradshaw.  Go  !  (Paul  hesitates  for  an  instant, 
then  zvith  a  determined  look  he  exits  quickly  out 
street  door.  Clock  strikes  eleven,  Bradshaw  closes 
door  after  Paul  and  comes  down  c.  glaring  at 
Woman)  Is  this  my  reward  for  taking  you  in? 
One  misfortune  heaped  upon  another. 

Woman.  (Down  l.)  And  yet  you  wrote  last 
night  that  our  misfortunes  are  all  of  our  own  mak- 
ing. 

(Martha  screams.     Otto  comes  hurriedly  dozvn 
the  stairs  to  c.  of  arch.) 


70         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw.  {To  Otto)  What  is  it?  What  is 
it? 

Otto.  I  gave  her  a  note  from  your  daughter, 
sir.     (Otto  exits) 

Bradshaw.     From  Bess?    Why  what  could 

Woman.  She*s  gone  to  meet  him.  They've 
planned  to  run  away.  It  may  not  be  too  late.  I 
had  his  promise. 

Bradshaw.  With  him — Macy?  It  is  too  late! 
The  letter  of  that  woman !  Her  evil  spell  is  on  us 
all.  This  house  is  cursed!  (Martha's  cries  con- 
tinue) What  is  it  Martha.  Yes,  I'm  coming.  {Hs 
exits  up  the  stairs)     Martha!     Martha! 

Martha.     Elijah!     Elijah! 

Bradshaw.  (Off-stage  and  after  ominous  pause) 
Martha ! 

Woman.  (Stands  c.  stage  as  all  lights  go  out  black 
and  baby  straw  from  bridge  hits  her  face;  with  su- 
preme compassion)     The  mothers!     The  mothers! 


ACT  III 

Time:     It  is  early  evening  and  all  the  lights  are  lit. 

Discovered:  Bradshaw  and  The  Woman  are 
discovered  at  rise.  Bradshaw  haggard  and 
zvorn  is  seated  on  divan  near  fireplace,  facing 
arch  c.  with  his  back  to  audience.  He  wears 
a  long  dressing  gown  over  same  clothes  in  first 
act.  Woman  stands  up  r.  c.  facing  Brad- 
shaw.    Window  curtains  are  drawn. 

Bradshaw.  Why  do  you  stay?  Why  don't  you 
leave  me?  All  the  others  have  gone.  Why  don't 
you  go? 

Woman.    Not  yet.  It  is  not  time. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  7^ 

Bradshaw.  Then  you  are  going?  I  thought 
so,  I  thought  so. 

Woman.  Not  yet.  I  shall  not  leave  you 
now. — I  am  sorry  to  disturb  you,  but  someone 
wants  to  see  you — Mr.  Bellamy. 

Bradshaw.  (Wearily)  Bellamy?  Oh  yes,  he's 
a  good  boy.  Let  him  come  in.  (Woman  turns  to 
admit  Bellamy,  and  is  stopped  by  Bradshaw) 
You're  sure  you're  not  going  away? 

Woman.  (Turning  to  Bradshaw)  Not  until 
vou  are  ready  to  have  me  go. 

BRADSHAw^  Until  I  am  ready?  You  mean  that 
my  own  time  is  short?  (Rises)  Well,  you're  right. 
(Turns  R.  and  gazes  at  picture)  You're  right. 
(Bradshaw  comes  down  r.  and  sits  on  bench  r. 
c.  Woman  goes  up  and  admits  Bellamy.  Bel- 
lamy enters  through  arch  and  comes  down  r.  c.  to 
Bradshaw)  How  do  you  do  my  boy,  I  am  glad  to 
see  you. 

Bellamy,  I  think  I've  got  some  good  news  for 
you, 

Bradshaw.  (Bitterly)  Good  news?  Is  there 
such  a  thing  in  the  world? 

Bellamy.  I  think  I  have  found  out  where  your 
daughter  is. 

Bradshaw.  My  daughter?  Which  daughter?  I 
have  no  daughter. 

Bellamy.     I  mean  your  daughter  Bess. 

Bradshaw.    I  tell  you  I  have  no  daughter. 

Bellamy.  Wilkins,  an  old  Star  man  now  on  the 
Nezv  York  Times,  has  written  me  that  he  saw  her 
last  Tuesday  in  New  York. 

Bradshaw.  (Fiercely)  With  him? — Macv? 
That 

Bellamy.  No,  she  was  alone  when  he  saw  her. 
Wilkins  knew  we  were  hunting  her  so  he  followed 
her  to  a  boarding  house  on  46th  Street.  He  wrote 
me  the  address  and  yesterday  I  sent  her  a  wire. 


72  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw.     She  answered? 

Bellamy.  Not  yet.  Perhaps  she  is  coming  home 
instead.     I  told  her  of  her  mother's 

Bradshaw.     Not  here.     She  shan't  come  here. 

Bellamy.    Do  you  mean  that? 

Bradshaw.  Certainly  I  mean  it.  Do  you  think 
I  would  take  her  in  after  all  she's  done?  Don't 
you  know  she  killed  her  mother? 

Bellamy.     I  wouldn't  say  that  if  I  were  you. 

Bradshaw.  But  I  do  say  it.  I  tell  you  she  killed 
her  as  surely  as  though  she  had  stabbed  her  to 
the  heart. 

Bellamy.  I  am  sorry.  I  thought  you  would  be 
glad. 

Bradshaw.  I  am  glad.  Glad  she's  alive — but 
that's  all. 

Bellamy.    And  you  won't  take  her  in? 

Bradshaw.  (Rising  and  facing  door  R.)  I 
won't  take  her  in — send  her  word  not  to  come. 

Bellamy.  No,  I'll  not  do  that.  If  she  comes, 
I'll  take  her  to  my  mother's — if  she's  willing  to  go. 

Bradshaw.  Do  you  mean  to  say  you  still  care 
for  her? — After  all  she's  done? 

Bellamy.  (With  marked  earnestness)  Mr. 
Bradshaw,  I  believe  a  girl  who  has  made  one  mis- 
take is  still  quite  good  enough  for  any  man,  and 
if  she  hasn't  (Pause)  she's  too  good  for  him. 
(Bascomb  rings  door  bell,  as  Bellamy  crosses  to 
l.  and  lights  cigarette  at  desk.  Otto  crosses  hall 
and  sees  Judge  Bascomb  through  door.  Without 
admitting  him,  he  comes  down  r.  c.) 

Otto.    Judge  Bascomb  to  see  you,  sir. 

Bradshaw.  That  tiresome  old  fool.  (He  crosses 
to  down  R.)  Tell  him  I'm  not  in.  Tell  him  I'm 
sick.  Tell  him  anything.  (\Turns  to  Bellamy) 
Bellamy,  you  see  him  for  me.  (Bradshaw  exits 
through  door  down  r.  Bellamy  signals  to  Otto  to 
admit  Bascomb.     Otto  goes  up,  admits  Bascomb 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  ^z 

and  exits  up  R.  Bascomb  enters  excitedly  and 
comes  down  c.  briskly,  his  hat  pulled  down  on  back 
of  his  head.     Bellamy  sits  in  chair  r.  at  desk  l.) 

Bascomb.     Where's  Bradshaw? 

Bellamy.  He's  too  ill  to  see  anybody.  What  is 
it?    Anything  wrong? 

Bascomb.  {Walking  up  and  down  r.  c.)  Wrong? 
Oh,  no  nothing  at  all.  Only  a  lot  of  these  women 
Bradshaw's  driven  out  of  the  Tenderloin  have  come 
and  camped  in  a  big  house  right  next  to  my  terrace 
on  Livingston  Avenue  and  now  all  my  tenants  are 
getting  ready  to  move  out.  Hell,  no.  there's  noth- 
ing wrong.  (Bellamy  laughs)  Tell  Bradshaw  I 
want  to  see  him.  That  I've  got  to  see  him.  (Bel- 
lamy laughs  again)     Funny  ain't  it? 

Bellamy.  {Laughingly)  Strikes  me  that  way. 
What  do  you  expect  Mr.  Bradshaw  is  going  to 
do  about  it? 

Bascomb.  Well  he'd  better  do  something  and  do 
it  pretty  sudden.  He  stirred  up  this  mess,  and  he's 
the  fellow  I'm  going  to  hold  responsible. 

Bellamy.  Where  do  you  want  these  women  to 
go? 

Bascomb.  (Up  c.)  I  don't  care  a  tinker's  dam 
where  they  go  so  long  as  they  don't  come  along 
side  of  my  property. 

Bellamy.  (Laughing)  It  strikes  me  you're 
getting  pretty  particular  about  your  property  all  of 
a  sudden.  If  I  remember  right,  you  owned  a  couple 
of  houses  in  the  old  segregated  district  that  you 
didn't  mind  renting  to  these  women,  at  about  four 
times  what  you  could  get  from  anybody  else. 

Bascomb,  I  came  here  to  talk  to  Bradshaw,  not 
to  be  cross-questioned  by  a  whipper-snapper  like  you. 
(Going  up  c.) 

Bellamy.  Don't  get  sore.  What  kind  of  a  place 
have  they  started  on  Livingston? 

Bascomb.    I  don't  know  what  you  call  it.    All  I 


\ 

74         THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

know  is  I  want  it  closed  up.  (Bellamy  laughs) 
A  lot  of  young  girls  running  in  there  at  all  hours. 
Taxicabs  dropping  men  off  a  block  or  two  away  so 
as  not  to  excite  suspicion.     Suspicion. — Huh! 

Bellamy.     That's  a  call  house. 

Bascomb.     (Down  r.)    A  what? 

Bellamy.  A  call  house.  Hundreds  of  them  have 
sprung  up  in  the  city  lately.  Apartment  houses 
are  full  of  them. 

Bascomb.     A  call  house? 

Bellamy.  The  woman  that  runs  it  has  a  list  of 
telephone  numbers,  girls  give  'em  to  her  so  she  can 
call  them  up.  A  lot  of  them  are  girls  that  work  in 
stores  and  don't  earn  enough  to  live  on.  A  swell 
place  of  that  kind  was  pinched  in  Milwaukee  a 
while  ago,  and  some  scandal  sheet  got  hold  of  the 
woman's  telephone  list  and  published  it,  names, 
numbers  and  all.  Say,  it  pretty  near  disrupted  the 
town.  That  list  was  so  long  it  looked  like  a  young 
directory — and  some  of  the  names  on  it ! — "  Oh ! 
Good  morning  Judge." 

Bascomb.    So  that's  it. 

Bellamy.  That's  only  one  way.  There  are  lots 
of  others. 

Bascomb  {Going  upstage  to  arch)  Well,  if 
Bradshaw  is  going  to  sidestep  this  matter,  I'll  see 
the  Chief  of  Police. 

Bellamy.  (Busying  himself  with  a  book)  That's 
a  good  idea.    Tell  your  troubles  to  a  copper. 

Bascomb.  For  the  last  time,  is  Bradshaw  go- 
ing to  see  me  or  not? 

Bellamy.    Not,  is  right. 

Bascomb.  Very  well,  I  give  you  fair  warning. 
I've  protected  him  right  along  and  now  I'm  through, 
and  now  he'd  better  get  that  girl  out  of  this  house 
if  he  knows  what's  good  for  him. 

Bellamy.     (Turning  to  Bascomb)     What  girl? 

Bascomb.    (Up  c.)    The  girl  he's  been  harboring 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  75 

here.  You  know  the  one  I  mean.  Everybody's 
talking  about  it.    The  girl  he's 

Bellamy.  (Rising  and  crossing  to  Bascomb) 
I'd  cut  that  talk  if  I  were  you. 

Bascomb.  Why  it's  an  open  secret.  They  say 
the  shame  of  it  drove  his  children  away  and  killed 
his  wife. 

Bellamy.  (Approaches  Bascomb  menacingly) 
I  told  you  to  cut  that,  didn't  I  ?  (Goes  up  c.  to  street 
door,  opens  it,  comes  back  down  c.  Pointing  to 
door)     That  is  the  way  out. 

Bascomb.  (Going  up  to  arch.  Bellamy  circles 
around  to  R.  of  Bascomb,  Bascomb  speaks  as  if  to 
a  servant)  Thanks  my  good  man.  Will  you  please 
say  to  Mr.  Bradshaw  that  Judge  Bascomb  called? 

Bellamy.  (Taking  the  servant  pose)  Very  well, 
sir.     Anything  else,  sir? 

Bascomb.  (Irritated)  No,  nothing  else,  sir! 
(Exits  stamping  out  street  door) 

Bellamy.  (Jokingly)  Very  good,  sir.  Call 
again,  sir.  (Bellamy  laughs,  closes  door,  comes 
dozvn  R.  to  door  and  his  expression  changes.  Won- 
deringly  as  he  is  about  to  exit)  Gad !  That's  a 
new  angle.  (He  exits  through  door  down  R, 
Woman  enters  through  street  door,  glances  around 
then  beckons  for  Bess,  who  enters  sobbing  quietly 
and  comes  down  c.) 

Woman.  Wait  here  a  moment,  and  I'll  call  your 
father. 

Bess.     No — not  yet. 

Woman.  You're  tired  out.  Perhaps  you  had 
better  come  to  your  room  and  rest  before  you  see 
him. 

Bess.  (Resolutely)  No,  I  mustn't  see  him.  I 
can't  face  him.  I  can't  face  anyone.  I  don't  know 
why  I  let  you  bring  me  here.  But  something  told 
me  I  must  come  with  you.    Now  I  must  go. 

Woman.    No. 


y(i  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bess.     Please  let  me  go. 

Woman.  Your  father  is  alone  now,  you  know. 
You  are  the  only  one  he  has.  Do  you  think  it  is 
fair  to  him.     And  your  mother 

Bess.  My  mother.  You  told  me  you  had  a  mes- 
sage from  her. 

Woman.     I  have  a  messar?-e. 

Bess.    But  you  have  not  told  me  what  it  v/as. 

Woman.  I  asked  you  to  wait  until  we  were 
home. 

Bess.  Dear  mother.  What  word  did  she  leave 
for  me?     {^Crosses  and  sits  on  chair  L.  c.) 

Woman.  She  wanted  you  to  know  that  she  loved 
you  and  forc^ave  you. 

Bess.  (Sobbing)  Oh,  if  she  had  only  known 
that  I  was  not  altogether  bad.  That  I  had  his  prom- 
ise to  marry  me.    That  I  believed  and  trusted  him. 

Woman.    She  knew  all  that. 

Bess.  She  knew  it.  How?  I  told  her  nothing 
in  my  note.     How  did  she  know? 

Woman.    I  told  her. 

Bess.  (Wonderingly)  You  told  her?  But  you 
didn't  know. 

Woman.     Yes,  I  knew. 

Bess.  And  you  told  her  that  I  had  been  tricked 
and  deserted.  That  I  had  not  intended  to  be  bad. 
And  that  I  have  paid — Oh,  how  I  have  paid.  You 
told  my  mother  all? 

Woman.  I  told  her  all.  And  she  smiled  as  she 
gave  me  the  message. 

Bess.    My  poor  mother. 

Woman.  (At  c.)  You  will  stay  now — with  your 
father? 

Bess.     (Wavering)     My  father!     I'm  afraid. 

Woman.  Don't  be  afraid.  There  is  nothing  to 
fear.  Your  father  is  much  changed.  He  needs 
you.  Come,  you  will  stay?  (She  holds  out  her 
arms  entreatingly) 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  ^^ 

Bess.  (Rising  and  moving  toward  The  Woman 
slozvly  as  though  in  a  daze.  A  sweet  maternal  smile 
light's  tip  the  Woman's  face)  You  are  a  servant — 
in  my  father's  house.  And  yet  when  you  spoke  just 
now,  it  seemed  to  me  I  heard  my  mother's  voice  and 
it  was  she  who  said,  "  Come,  you  will  stay." 

Woman.    And  you  will  stay? 

Bess.  (Falteringly)  Yes,  if  you  think  it  best. 
Something  tells  me  I  must  do  as  you  say  now, — 
because — because — (Falls  sobbing  on  Woman's 
breast) 

Woman.  Because  I  understand.  (Pause)  Come. 
(They  both  cross  up  to  arch,  the  Magdalene  sup- 
porting Bess  and  exit  ad  lib.  up  the  stairs) 

Bellamy.  (Opens  door  down  r.  and  enters  fol- 
lozved  by  Bradshaw)  I  always  knew  you  were  a 
hard  man,  Mr.  Bradshaw,  but  I  never  knew  you 
were  a  cruel,  and  unforgiving  one  until  to-day. 
(Crosses  up  l.) 

Bradshaw.  (Crossing  to  c.)  Well,  if  I  am, 
I  am,  and  there's  an  end  of  it. 

Bellamy.  And  you  won't  allow  her  to  come 
back? 

Bradshaw.  No.  I've  told  you  no,  and  that's 
fmal.     (Crosses  to  l.  and  sits  at  desk) 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  l.  c.)  Well,  then,  will 
you  do  this  for  me.  You  must  admit  I've  done  one 
or  two  things  for  you.  If  she  comes  home,  will  you 
have  som.cone  let  me  know  where  I  can  find  her. 

Bradshaw.     (Wearily)     I'll  try.     I'll  try. 

Bellamy.  Thanks.  Good  night.  (He  goes  up 
to  street  door  and  is  about  to  exit) 

Smollet.  (From  porch)  Well,  Mr.  Bellamy, 
I  always  meet  you  here. 

Bellamy.     (Disgustedly)     Yes,  so  it  seems. 

Smollet.     Is  Mr.  Bradshaw  in? 

Bellamy.  I  think  so,  I'll — (He  is  about  to  turn 
to  speak  to  Bradshaw) 


78  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Smollet.    Never  mind.    I'll  see  for  myself. 

Bellamy.  (As  he  exits)  All  right,  go  as  far  as 
you  like. 

Smollet.  (Enters  through  arch,  crosses  to  l. 
and  goes  to  Bradshaw  at  desk)  My  dear  friend. 
Tm  sorry  to  find  you  like  this.  (He  takes  Brad- 
SHAw's  hand) 

Bradshaw.  Why  does  all  this  have  to  come  to 
me? 

Smollet.  (Crossing  around  back  of  Bradshaw's 
chair)     Whom  the  Lord  loveth,  He  chasteneth. 

Bradshaw.  I  tell  you  Smollet,  I  believe  it  is 
God's  punishment.  Punishment  for  my  pride,  my 
colossal  pride.  Pride  in  my  son's  integrity — my 
daughter's  virtue,  my  own  smug,  serene,  sanctified 
satisfaction  in  my  religion,  which  hasn't  been  re- 
ligion at  all,  nothing  but  a  canting  hypocrisy. 

Smollet.     (Amazed)    Don't  say  that ! 

Bradshaw.  I  do  say  it.  I  see  it  now.  I  saw  it 
a  few  days  ago  when  I  looked  into  the  dead  face  of 
my  dear  wife  and  felt  the  props  fall  from  under 
my  money-made  faith, — ^the  holier-than-thou  kind 
of  religion  that  comes  with  mahogany  pews  and 
subsidized  sermons. 

Smollet.  I  am  sorry  to  find  you  in  this  frame 
of  mind.     (Sits  in  chair  down  l.) 

Bradshaw.     Sorry  that  I've  found  myself  out? 

Smollet.  .  Nonsense,  my  dear  friend.  You  have 
been  the  very  corner-stone  of  our  church. 

Bradshaw.  I've  written  checks,  if  that's  what 
you  mean.  Checks  that  cost  me  no  more  effort  or 
sacrifice  than  if  I  were  to  give  you  a  flower  from 
that  vase  there. 

Smollet.  Look  at  the  splendid  revival  which 
closes  to-night.  You  were  instrumental  in  bringing 
this  great  Evangelist  here. 

Bradshaw.    My  money,  perhaps. 

Smollet.    Thousands  have  been  converted. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  79 

Bradshaw,     Converted  ? 

Smollet.  Yes.  Hundreds  have  come  nightly 
down  the  saw-dust  trail.  (Rises)  No  need  to  tell 
you  what  a  noble  work  has  been  done.  (Putting  his 
hand  on  Bradshaw's  shoulder) 

Bradshaw.    If  it  is  so,  I  am  very  glad. 

Smollet.  (Crosses  in  back  of  Bradshaw 
around  to  l.  c.)  And  now  to  speak  of  a  matter 
which  brooks  of  no  delay — if  I  may  be  so  bold — as 
your  Pastor  to  mention  what  has  brought  me  to  you 
to-night. 

Bradshaw.    Yes,  go  on. 

Smollet.  (Sitting  in  chair  l.  c.)  This  young 
woman  in  your  household.     I  have  heard 

Bradshaw.  I  know.  You  have  heard  that  she 
is  an  unfortunate  who  is  trying  to  redeem  herself 
from  a  life  of  shame.    Yes,  it  is  true. 

Smollet.  But  I  marvel  at  you,  permitting  her 
to  remain  in  your  home.  Does  it  not  suggest  itself 
to  you  that  her  evil  presence  may  have  been  the 
cause  of  your  appalling  misfortunes  ? 

Bradshaw.  Smollet!  If  God  has  rebuked  me 
for  doing  an  act  of  simple  kindness,  then  I  don't 
want  His  clemency.     (Both  rise) 

Smollet.     (Backing  to  c.)     Mr.  Bradshaw! 

Bradshaw.  (Crossing  above  desk  to  Smollet) 
If  God  is  bigot,  a  tyrant,  an  oppressor  of  the  weak, 
I  am  sorry  that  I  ever  spent  an  hour  in  His  worship. 

Smollet.    What  blasphemy! 

Bradshaw.  Now  is  no  time  to  harangue  me  with 
this.  The  woman  stays,  and  that's  an  end  of  it. 
(Sits  in  chair  L.  c.) 

Smollet.  But  I  must  press  you  to  listen  further. 
I  had  hoped  to  get  you  to  take  the  advice  of  your 
Pastor  without  presenting  the  serious  phase  of  the 
matter.  You  perhaps  don't  know  it,  but  your  ex- 
traordinary conduct  has  been  made  the  sensational 
subject  for  town  gossip  for  a  fortnight.     It  has 


8o  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

become  a  scandal  which,  due  to  your  importance 
in  the  community,  has  assumed  alarming  propor- 
tions. It  will  startle  you  to  learn  that  Gleason  re- 
ferred to  it  in  his  sermon  last  night,  and  prayed 
that  you  might  be  brought  to  a  realization  of  your 
offense  against  the  decency  of  the  community. 

Bradshaw.    He  dared  do  that? 

Smollet.  He  dares  anything — ^you  know  that. 
He  stops  at  nothing;  and  I  just  learned  only  a  few 
moments  ago  that  to-night  he  plans  to  follow  up 
his  prayer  by  coming  here  to  exhort  you  publicly. 
Mind  you,  I  don't  approve  of  everything  this  man 
does.  I  told  you  that  when  we  discussed  bringing 
him  here. 

Bradshaw.    Well  go  on. 

Smollet.  So  to-night,  in  fact  in  a  very  few  min- 
utes, unless  I  can  bring  him  a  message  from  you, 
he  and  some  of  his  followers  will  halt  in  front  of 
your  house  on  their  way  to  the  tabernacle,  and  he 
will  demand  that  you  drive  this  woman  from  un- 
der your  roof. 

Bradshaw.     Demand ! 

Smollet.  And  so  I  beseech  you  to  turn  her  out 
now  so  that  I  may  go  back  and  tell  him  that  she 
is  gone.     (Crosses  to  r.  c.) 

Bradshaw.  Turn  out  this  woman  who  sat  day 
and  night  at  the  bedside  of  my  poor  wife,  repay 
her  tender  devotion  by  throwing  her  into  the  street  ? 
(Rises  and  crosses  to  Smollet)  No,  my  dear 
Smollet.  You  may  go  back  to  Gleason  and  tell 
him  that  for  once  in  his  life  Elijah  Bradshaw  is 
going  to  do  the  decent  thing.  He  may  invoke  the 
Divine  wrath  against  me.  He  may  kindle  for  me 
the  fires  of  Hell,  but  just  so  long  as  I  have  a  roof 
and  this  woman  desires  its  protection,  she  may  stay. 
(Crosses  to  l.  c.)  The  world  holds  nothing  for 
me  now  but  the  memory  of  my  dead  wife.  If  it 
were  not  for  the  sustaining  influence  of  her  beau- 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  8i 

tiful  and  virtuous  life,  I  would  end  it  all  I  think. 
But  so  long  as  I  live  I  shall  follow  the  dictates  of 
my  own  conscience  and  not  be  bullied  by  some  hired 
exhorter,  who  seems  by  some  strange  coincidence 
always  to  find  the  fields  fertile  for  soul-saving  where 
they  are  also  fallow  for  dollar-getting.     (Crosses 

to  R.) 

Smollet.  I  regret  exceedingly  your  alarming 
attitude  and  I  can't  promise  you  what  the  result  of 
your  very  unusual  behavior  will  be. 

Bradshaw.  Don't  spare  me ;  you  have  said  that 
the  Lord  loveth  whom  He  chasteneth ;  pray  there- 
fore, that  he  love  me  overmuch.  (In  front  of  fire- 
place) But  not  more  than  human  nature  can  en- 
dure. 

Smollet.  (Turns  and  faces  arch)  Rest  as- 
sured, Elijah,  I  shall  pray  for  you. 

Bradshaw.  And  I  shall  pray  that  your  prayers 
reach  the  Divine  ear.     Good-bye. 

(Smollet  goes  to  arch.) 

Smolt.et.  (Gets  hat  from  chair  up  c.)  Good- 
bye.    (Starts  to  go) 

Bradshaw.  Oh,  will  you  be  with  those  of  our 
friends  to-night?  (Smollet  turns;  Bradshaw  in- 
dicates front  of  house) 

Smollet.  (From  c.  of  arch)  I  shall  be  on  the 
side  of  righteousness. 

Bradshaw.     I  am  so  sorry. 

Smollet.  Good  night.  (He  exits.  Bradshaw 
zvalks  slowly  to  desk  and  sits.  Woman  enters  from 
R.  and  crosses  to  r.  of  desk) 

Woman.    I  have  news  for  you. 

Bradshaw.     (Looking  up)     News? 

Woman.    Of  your  daughter. 

Bradshaw.    Well  ? 

Woman.  It  was  as  we  thought.  He  deserted 
her. 


S2  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw.    They  were  married? 

Woman.    No,  he  tricked  her  and  left  her. 

Bradshaw.    The  hound ! 

Woman.    At  Montreal. 

Bradshaw.  Montreal — (He  sinks  in  chair  with 
his  head  in  his  hands)    The  sins  of  the  fathers ! 

Woman.  She  is  very  penitent.  She  wants  your 
forgiveness.     She  is 

(Phone  bell  rings.) 

Bradshaw.  (Wearily)  Hello, — who — Bellamy 
-—yes  I  know — Smollet  just  told  me — No,  not  that, 
if  it's  my  last  act  on  earth — No,  my  boy,  that  would 
be  useless.  Don't  I  know  that  crowd?  Haven't  I 
been  their  ringleader — (Band  and  crowd  start 
faintly  in  the  distance)  Don't  try,  I  think  I  hear 
them  now — yes,  they're  coming,— good-bye. 

Otto.  (Enters  excitedly)  What  is  it  sir,  what 
is  it  ? 

Bradshaw.  Turn  out  those  lights,  quickly, 
quickly.  (Otto  turns  out  lights  and  exits  through 
street  door)     My  friends  are  paying  me  a  call. 

Woman.  (At  c.  In  spot)  I  knew  they  would 
come.    They  have  come  for  me,  to  stone  me. 

Bradshaw.    They'll  not  dare! 

(Crowd  increases  in  volume  and  finally  stops  as  if 
in  front  of  house.  Band  is  playing  Billy  Sun- 
day hymn  ''  The  Brewer's  Big  Horses.'') 

Gleason.  (Voice  off-stage  in  stentorian  tones) 
My  friends,  stop  here  a  while.  This  is  the  home 
of  Elijah  Bradshaw 

Voices  in  Crowd.     Ah  Bradshaw.     Come  out. 
Where's  your  manners? 
.  Gleason.    This  city's  most  illustrious  backslider 

Voices  in  Crowd.    Come  out  and  show  yourself. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  83 

Don't  be  backward.  Come  out.  We're  your 
friends. 

Gleason.  Judas  bought  a  ticket  to  Hell  with 
thirty  pieces  of  silver.  Bradshaw  here  has  bought 
his  ticket  and  he's  paid  his  price.  Judas  was  the 
arch-traitor  of  his  town — Bradshaw  is  the  arch- 
traitor  of  his.  From  a  leader  of  the  hosts  of  God 
he  has  fallen  into  the  abyss  of  sin.  At  this  moment 
he  is  harboring  under  his  roof  a  harlot — an  un- 
speakable creature  with  Hell's  seal  upon  her. 

Voices  in  Crowd.  A  harlot !  A  harlot !  Send 
her  out.    Shame !    Come  out,  come  out. 

Gleason.  Let  him  hide  in  the  shadow  of  his 
own  infamy.  Let  us  pause  a  moment  (Crowd 
which  has  been  murmuring  now  stops  and  there  is 
a  dead  silence)  and  pray  that  he  may  be  snatched 
like  a  brand  from  the  burning.  (He  prays)  Dear 
God,  incline  Thine  ear  as  we  beseech  Thee 

Bradshaw.  (Rushes  to  window,  throws  open 
curtains,  opens  zvindow  and  steps  out  on  porch) 
Stop — stop,  we  need  no  prayers  of  yours. 

Voices  in  Crowd.  Bradshaw!  There  he  is. 
That's  him.     Bradshaw,  Bradshaw. 

Bradshaw.  (Lookitig  over  faces  in  crowd) 
Well,  what  do  you  want  with  me?  (Crowd  continues 
to  murmur)  Barnes,  Jennings,  and  Stillman.  All 
my  friends.    Ah,  SmoUet,  Thou  too  Brutus. 

Gleason.  Never  mind  them.  The  woman — 
let  her  stand  forth. 

Voices  in  Crowd.  The  woman !  Bring  her  out 
here !    Let  her  stand  forth ! 

Bradshaw.  She  shall  not.  This  is  my  home 
Gleason  and  I  warn  you  to  go  before  I  send  you  and 
some  of  your  saintly  crew^  to  face  the  God  you  talk 
to  so  glibly. 

Gleason.  The  nearer  we  get  to  God,  the  more 
elbow  room  and  the  smaller  the  crowd.  Send  the 
woman  out. 


84  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Brads  HAW.  Never !  (Stones  crash  through 
glass,  Bradshaw  rushes  to  desk  drazver  and  gets 
gun) 

Voices  in  Crowd.  Stone  him!  Stone  him! 
(Crozvd  keeps  up  shouting,  Bradshaw  appears  at 
windozv  zvith  revolver  zvhich  he  levels  at  Gleason. 
Bess  comes  dozvn  the  stairs,  enters  through  arch. 
She  is  partly  dressed  and  her  hair  is  dozvn) 

Bradshaw.  (Leveling  gun)  Pray,  now,  Glea- 
son, and  for  yourself.  (Bess  screams,  runs  to  her 
father,  pulls  down  his  arm.  She  kneels  at  his  feet, 
still  holding  his  arm) 

Voices  in  Crowd.  The  woman!  There  she  Is. 
Stone  her !    Stone  her ! 

Gleason.     Woman  stand  forth. 

Voices  in  Crowd.  Come  out,  shame.  Make  her 
come  out.     Stone  her.     Stone  her! 

Bradshaw.  (Standing  before  her  and  placing  a 
protecting  hand  on  her  head)  Stop,  stop — I  com- 
mand you  in  the  words  of  Christ.  (Crozvd  zvhich 
has  been  shouting  stops,  and  again  there  is  a  dead 
silence)  "  Let  him  among  you  who  is  without  sin 
first  cast  a  stone  at  her."  (Light  comes  up  on  Mag- 
dalene picture  and  dims  out  again,  Bradshaw 
stands  majestically  confronting  the  mob. 

Woman.    (Ate.)    At  last!    At  last!   (She  exits) 

Voice  in  Crowd.  Ah  come  on  Jimmie,  can't 
you  see  he's  beat  you  at  your  own  game  ?  Cut  that, 
you 

Gleason.  Come  over  to  the  tabernacle  and  we'll 
pray  for  him  there,  though  I  think  he's  past 
redemption. 

Voices  in  Crowd.  Quit  shoving.  Who's  shov- 
ing. You  are.  Get  off  that  flower  bed.  What's 
the  matter  with  the  Band  ?    Spiel,  can't  you. 

Gleason.     What's  the  matter  with  you  fellows  ? 


X 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  85 

Are  you  all  hypnotized?    Toot  her  up  there. 

(Band  starts  and  crozvd  moves  ad  lib.   Voices  grow- 
ing iveaker  and  music  fainter.) 

Bradshaw.  (Raising  girl  to  her  feet.  She  hacks 
down  c.  with  her  head  bowed.  Finally  she  lifts  her 
head.  Bradshaw  in  astonishment,  then  breaks  down 
and  clasps  her  to  him)  Bess!  My  daughter — my 
own  little  girl.  I  thought  it  was — I  didn't  know — 
my  baby.  (She  is  weeping  bitterly  as  Bradshaw 
leads  her  to  arch)  Go  to  your  room — your  old 
room,  and  may  God  forgive  you  as  I  do. 

Bradshaw.  (He  kisses  her  on  the  forehead. 
Bradshaw  crosses  back  to  desk.  The  stage  is  in 
darkness  except  for  the  lamp  on  the  desk.  He  sits 
in  deep  abstraction  for  a  few  seconds,  then  notices 
the  letter  of  the  girl.  He  picks  it  up  and  starts  to 
read.  Reading)  "  I  shall  remain  here  to  see  your 
wife  torn  from  you  by  death  and  to  see  you  follow 
her  to  your  grave  deserted,  heart-broken  and  dis- 
graced." (He  drops  letter,  takes  revolver  out  of 
pocket  of  his  dressing  gown,  holds  it  under  light 
and  starts  to  put  it  to  his  head.  Woman  enters 
up  R.  and  stands  in  front  of  desk.  The  situation  is 
identical  with  that  in  first  act.  She  is  dressed  in 
same  cloak  but  underneath  wears  a  purple  vestment) 

Woman.  (Stops  Bradshaw  with  a  gesture) 
Not  that.  (He  puts  gun  on  desk)  I  must  leave  you 
now.  You  do  not  need  me  any  more.  Your 
daughter  has  returned  to  you. 

Bradshaw.  (Arousing  himself  from  his  stupor) 
My  daughter — are  you  not  my  daughter? 

Woman.     No. 

Bradshaw.     (Rising)     Then  you  deceived  me — 

you  lied  to  me 

Woman.     I  never  told  you  so.     You  yourself 


S6       the;  eternal  magdalene 

said  it.  It  was  your  own  conscience  that  spoke. 

Bradshaw.  Then  if  you  are  not  my  daughter, 
who  are  you?  You  come  into  my  house  Hke  a  thief 
in  the  night — you  bring  with  you  a  curse — a  curse 
that  has  blasted  my  Hfe  and  the  Hves  of  those  I 
love,  and  now  your  work  is  done,  you  go, — but  be- 
fore you  go — before  you  pass  that  door — you  will 
tell  me  this.  Why  did  you  come  here  ?  Why — why 
have  you  done  this  thing  to  me  ? 

Woman.  To  reach  your  heart  and  humble  your 
pride.  Not  to  condone  sin,  but  to  waken  in  you  a 
sense  of  your  own  unworthiness  to  sit  in  judge- 
ment of  your  fellow  creatures,  and  to  prove  to  you 
that  our  misfortunes  are  not  always  of  our  own 
making. 

Bradshaw.  My  punishment  is  greater  than  I 
can  bear — my  heart  goes  out  to  those  who  suffer  as 
I  am  suffering  now. 

Woman.  That  is  why  my  task  is  done.  When 
you  stood  there  just  now  and  spoke  His  words,  I 
knew  that  I  need  stay  no  longer. 

Bradshaw.  {In  awed  voice)  Woman, — in  God's 
name  who  are  you ! 

Woman.  (Dropping  black  cloak.  White  spot  com- 
pletely  envelopes  her,  Blue  spot  dims  off  on  Brad- 
shaw. Music  far  away,  as  if  from  the  tabernacle, 
is  heard)  I  am  the  Eternal  Magdalene,  made  im- 
mortal by  the  touch  of  His  hand  two  thousand  years 
ago.  When  they  that  would  have  stoned  me  turned 
sullenly  away,  the  Savior  raised  me  up,  saying 
"  Woman,  doth  no  man  condemn  thee  ?  "  And  I 
answered  "  No  man.  Lord."  And  Jesus  said 
"  Neither  do  I  condemn  thee,  but  I  appoint  thee  My 
messenger.  Go  thou  down  the  centuries  and  bear 
witness  to  this  that  thou  hast  seen.  In  every  clime 
and  in  every  season  thou  wilt  find  those  who  have 
sinned  as  thou  hast  sinned.  Stand  between  them  and 
their  persecutors  as  I  have  stood  between  thee  and 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  87 

thine.  And  upbraid  them  not,  for  are  they  not 
all  children  of  the  same  Father?  There  are  among 
my  disciples  those  who  will  preach  of  many  things, 
but  to  thee  I  entrust  this  text :  *  He  that  is  without 
sin  among  you,  let  him  first  cast  a  stone  at  her.' 
Go  now  and  sin  no  more."  And  he  departed  and  I 
stood  as  one  transfixed,  gazing  after  Him.  And 
my  brow  burned  from  His  touch  and  through  my 
veins  coursed  blood  that  had  been  cleansed  as  by 
fire.  Thus  have  I  come  through  the  ages  speaki^' 
His  word  and  thus  shall  I  go  on  and  on  while  na- 
tions crumble  and  empires  fall,  bearing  His  mes- 
sage of  mercy  to  man.  My  task  here  is  done  and 
even  now  the  Master  beckons  from  afar.  Fare  thee 
well.     (She  turns  upstage) 

(Lights  fade  to  black.) 

Bess.  (From  porch)  Why,  the  door  is  locked! 
Paul,  you  have  the  key. 

Paul.  Yes,  I'm  getting  it.  (Noise  of  unlocking 
door)     There  you  are. 

Bellamy.     Watch  your  step.     Safety  first. 

Bess.  (Entering  through  arch)  Has  everyone 
gone  to  bed  ? 

Paul.  (In  hall)  Turn  on  the  lights.  Funny 
everything's  dark.  (Martha  turns  on  lights,  Paul 
enters  and  crosses  to  l.  c.)  Hello,  there's  dad 
asleep. 

Bess.  (Crossing  to  Bradshaw)  Here,  old 
sleepy  head,  wake  up,  wake  up.     (Shakes  him) 

Bradshaw.  (Slozvly  awakening)  No — ^no — 
(Sees  wife  first)  Martha!  (Passes  hands  over 
eyes,  staring  as  if  he  could  not  believe  what  he  was 
seeing.  Bess  tugs  at  his  arm  which  brings  him 
around)  Bess!  (Turns  back  to  look  at  wife  again, 
sees  PuAL  standing  r.  c.)  My  boy!  (He  remem- 
bers Woman  who  was  just  there  and  rushes  to 


88  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

windozv)  Come  back!  Stop  that  woman!  She 
lied  to  me!    She  lied  to  me. 

Martha.  (Rushing  to  windozv  and  taking 
Bradshaw  by  the  arm)     Elijah!    Elijah! 

Bess.     (At  l.  c.)    What  woman  father? 

Paul.     (At  r.  c.)     Who  do  you  mean? 

Bradshaw.  (Opens  curtains  and  window,  finds 
it  whole.  He  slowly  realises  he  has  had  a  dream. 
Comes  down  l.  c.  from  window  in  a  daze  with 
Martha  and  Bess  supporting  him)  What  time 
is  it? 

Bellamy.  (Back  to  table  r.  c.)  Why  it's  just 
ten  minutes  of  eleven. 

Paul.     We've  just  come  from  the  tabernacle. 

Bradshaw.  (Passing  his  hand  over  his  fore- 
head)    Gad,  Fve  had  a  frightful  session  here! 

Martha.  Sleeping  you  mean.  And  snoring  ter- 
ribly ril  bet  you. 

Paul.  Gleason  was  great  to-night.  He  preached 
on  the  sins  of  the  fathers.  You  shouldn't  have 
missed  it,  Dad.  (Paul  crosses  to  door  down  r.  and 
exits.    Bradshaw  crosses  to  desk  and  sits) 

Bellamy.  (Crossing  to  desk)  And  the  collec- 
tion was  eight  thousand.  What  do  you  think  of 
that?  Oh,  by  the  way,  Mr.  Bradshaw  if  you  have 
that  statement  ready,  FIl  hurry  it  right  over  to  The 
Star. 

(Martha  crosses  to  table  r.  c.  and  takes  hat  ana 
coat  off.) 

Bradshaw.     (Slightly  dazed)    What  statement.^ 

Bellamy.    V/hy,  you  know  the 

Bradshaw.  Oh  yes,  I  remember  now.  I  had 
just  finished  it  when  I  must  have  dozed  off.  (He 
looks  at  it  a  moment  intently,  shakes  his  head  in 
disapproval,  tears  it  deliberately  through  the  middle) 

Bellamy.    Why,  what  arc  you  doing? 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  89 

Bradshaw.  No,  I  don't  think  Fll  let  you  print 
this.     It's  hardly  what  I  want  to  say. 

Bellamy.  But  The  Star  expects  some  expres- 
sion from  you  about  the  district — the  women — I 
really  must  have  something. 

Bradshaw.  The  women — you  must  have  some- 
thing? Then  say  that  Elijah  Bradshaw  refused  to 
be  interviewed  but  quoted  scripture  instead,  say- 
ing, "  Let  him  among  you  who  is  without  sin  cast 
the  first  stone  at  them." 

Bellamy.  (Joyously)  Then  you've  changed 
your  mind?  (Glancing  at  Bess)  Remember  your 
promise?  Does  that  promise  go?  (Puts  his  arms 
around  Bess) 

Bradshaw.  Well  you  know  John,  I'm  a  man 
of  my  word. 

Bess.  I  told  you  that  sometimes  he  says  no  when 
he  means  yes. 

(Bellamy  khses  Bess,  turns  and  looks  at  Mrs. 
Bradshaw  unth  a  smile.) 

Bellamy.  (Glancing  at  zvatch)  Well,  eleven 
o'clock  is  the  deadline.  I've  got  to  go  to  the  office. 
I'll  see  you  in  the  morning.  Good-night,  Mrs.  Brad- 
shaw. 

Bess.  (Doesn't  want  him  to  go)  No, — no — but 
I  don't — (She  follozvs  him  to  arch) 

(Bellamy  glancing  at  Mrs.  Bradshaw  again  kisses 
Bess  up  c.  then  exits  quickly  out  street  door.) 

Paul.  (Entering  quickly  from  door  down  right) 
Oh,  Dad,  can  Sis  and  I  go  to  the  show  to-morrow 
night  ? 

(Both  Martha  and  Bess  give  Paul  a  warning 
gesture.) 


90  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Bradshaw.  Well,  if  you're  a  good  boy  and  moth- 
er's willing,  I  think  we'll  all  go.  (Crosses  to  Mar- 
tha c.  and  takes  her  in  his  arms,  Bess  and  Paul 
throw  up  their  hands  for  joy) 

Curtain, 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE         91 


DESCRIPTION  OF  CHARACTERS. 

Elijah  Bradshaw — 

An  American  business  man  of  the  "  Captain  of 
Industry"  type — firm  and  forceful  to  the  point  of 
austerity.  He  is  about  sixty  years  of  age,  dressed 
well,  though  not  foppishly.  A  man  of  great  initia- 
tive and  of  poor  patience  with  men  who  fail.  He 
has  a  strict  moral  code  which  he  enforces  in  his 
home.  In  religion  he  is  orthodox,  just  as  in  busi- 
ness he  is  honest,  because  he  believes  honesty  to 
be  the  best  policy.  He  hates  sin  in  the  same  way 
that  he  hates  any  other  form  of  inefficiency. » 

Martha  Bradshaw — 

A  woman  of  fifty.  She  has  shared  her  husband's 
early  struggles  and  is  still  his  best  ally  and  most 
enthusiastic  admirer.  Although  wealthy  in  later 
years,  she  has  never  been  a  climber,  preferring  her 
home  and  its  responsibilities  to  the  usual  social  di- 
versions. She  is  comely,  cheerful,  and  kind- 
hearted — perhaps  a  trifle  old-fashioned  judged  by 
modern  standards. 

Elizabeth  Bradshaw — 

Young  girl  (eighteen  or  twenty)  of  the  approved 
small-city  type.  She  is  a  bit  spoiled  and  just  a  lit- 
tle blase  in  a  small-town-boarding-school  sort  of 
way.    Pretty  and  attractive  and  popular, 

Paul  Bradshaw — 

About  twenty  or  twenty-four.  He  first  appears 
as  a  decent  sort  of  a  chap,  but  later  in  the  play  ex- 
hibits caddish  and  vicious  tendencies.  He  is  dressed 
well  and  carries  himself  as  to  suggest  a  proud, 
well  schooled  and  worldly-wise  youth.        ^ 


92  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

John  Bellamy — 

A  rather  breezy  though  sincere,  American  news- 
paper rnan.  He  may  be  twenty-seven,  or  there- 
abouts. Has  the  real  newspaper  instinct  which 
spells  loyalty  to  his  paper  and  to  the  public.  His 
experiences  as  a  newsgatherer  in  ail  walks  of  life 
have  taught  him  to  see  things  clearly ;  quickly  to 
discern  sham  and  hypocrisy  and  to  detect  the  real 
motives  underlying  many  alleged  benefactions  and 
philanthropies.  He  is  frank  and  fearless,  though  at 
no  time  flip  or  smart. 

Birmingham  Smollet — 

A  minister  of  the  gospel,  forty-five  or  there- 
abouts. He  is  the  modern  kind  of  preacher,  sub- 
sidized by  his  wealthy  parishioners  and  preaching 
the  sort  of  sermons  that  he  thinks  they  will  en- 
dorse. He  dresses  rather  smartly,  looks  like  a  well- 
groomed  business  man.  He  has  a  frank,  ingratiat- 
ing manner  and  is  likely  to  impress  the  casual  per- 
son with  his  sincerity. 

Judge  Amos  Bascomb — 

A  retired  member  of  the  judiciary.  He  is  an  old 
man  (65  or  so)  of  the  foxy  type.  Likes  the  ladies 
and  the  other  good  things  of  life.  He  is  lined  up 
with  the  reformers  for  the  same  reason  that  pirates 
sometimes  consider  it  expedient  to  wear  masks  when 
skuttling  a  ship. 

Arnold  Macy — 

A  man  of  forty.  He  hails  from  New  York;  is 
a  bond  salesman,  though  not  of  the  flip  type  He 
dressers  in  fashion  and  has  an  alert-up-to-date  man- 
ner. The  sort  of  fellow  that  unsophisticated  young 
women  are  supposed  to  fall  for. 

Blanche  Dumond — 

Of   uncertain   years — anywhere    from   thirty   to 


'J'HE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  93 

forty.  Although  in  a  business  that  may  only  be 
spoken  of  in  whispers,  she  is  a  woman  of  evident 
refinement  and  education.  She  dresses  stylishly, 
but  does  not  overdo  it.  By  her  appearance  you 
would  judge  her  to  be  the  wife  of  a  well-to-do 
professional  man,  accustomed  to  moving  in  a  verv 
good  stratum  of  society. 

Otto-  - 

A  servant  more  of  the  valet  type  than  the  con- 
ventional stage  servant.  He  dresses  in  dark  clothes, 
not  livery.  May  be  anywhere  from  forty  to  sixty 
in  age. 

Rev.  James  Gleason — 

An  evangelist  of  the  rip-roaring,  hell-raising 
Billy  Sunday  type.  He  is  a  big-lunged  fellow,  a 
six-footer  about  forty-five  or  fifty.  He  dresses  in 
up-to-date  clothes  of  almost  sporty  cut.  He  is  dy- 
namic, forceful,  convincing — a  mental  bully,  who  is 
used  to  dominating  everyone  with  whom  he  comes 
in  contact. 

Dan  Burke — 

A  plain  clothes  copper,  about  thirty.  He  is  rough, 
glib  and  over-bearing.  He  wears  a  suit  of  ordinary 
dark  clothes  and  soft  hat.  Inside  his  coat  he  wears 
a  badge. 

A  Woman  of  the  Town — 

Presumed  to  be  the  woman  Christ  saved  from  a 
mob  in  Jerusalem  two  thousand  years  ago,  when 
she  was  about  to  be  stoned  to  death  for  adultery. 
Immortalized  by  His  touch,  she  has,  by  His  com- 
mand, come  down  through  the  centuries  doing  what 
she  can  to  protect  the  women  of  the  class  to  which 
she  belonged,  from  persecution  and  cruelty.  She 
is  a  Minister  of  Mercy,  the  custodian  of  His  text: 


94  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

"  Let  him  who  is  without  sin  cast  the  first  stone." 
In  age  she  may  look  twenty-five  or  even  thirty.  In 
idemeanor  she  acts  with  great  poise  and  deUbera- 
^tion,  as  though  what  she  is  now  doing  she  has  done 
'many  times  before.  Compassion  is  a  strong  factor 
in  her  make-up,  though  it  is  evident  that  if  neces- 
sary, she  can  be  austere  and  even  implacable.  Al- 
ways she  gives  the  impression  (the  mystery  sugges- 
tion) that  she  is  a  creature  apart — a  being  from 
quite  another  sphere  of  existence.  This  doesn't 
mean  that  she  is  to  mope.  She  smiles  and  chats  na- 
turally when  scenes  require  it,  but  at  the  same  time 
gets  over  the  subtle  suggestion  of  her  other  self— her 
immortal  side.  (Best  example  of  this:  Forbes  Rob- 
ertson in  "  The  Passing  of  the  Third  Floor  Back  *') 
She  wears  on  first  entrance,  a  mantle,  or  hooded 
cloak  of  the  kind  worn  by  women  in  Biblical  times. 
She  wears  this  same  cloak  again  on  her  final  exit. 
Under  cloak  in  the  first  act  she  wears  a  red  silk 
wrapper  of  the  tawdry  kind  affected  by  women 
in  cheap  bagnios.  She  is  decorated  with  cheap 
phoney  jewelry.  In  the  other  acts  she  dresses  sim- 
ply as  a  housemaid,  except  at  her  last  appearance, 
when  she  wears  a  purple  vestment  under  her  sombre 
mantle. 

PROPERTIES 

ACT  I 

Carpet,  fire  rug  and  door  rug 

3  arm  chairs  and  7  straight  back  chairs 

Stair  carpet 

Settee 

Library  table 

24-inch  table 

All  Jacobean  furniture 

On  library  table  are  blotting  pad,  writing  mater,„. 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  95 

papers,  books  in  bookstand,  telephone,  paper 

holder  with  private  paper,  manuscript  paper, 

woman's  letter 
Mantel  R.,  with  fire  irons  and  grate— ornaments  on 

mantel — screen  in  back    (tricked  to  work  on 

que) 
Bronzes  and  vases  on  book  cases 
Books  on  mantel 
Curtains  on  arches  and  bookcases — also  on  window 

L.  2 
Family  Bible  on  bookcase 
Book  cases  filled  with  books 
Practical  Victrola  with  special  record   (Poupchen, 

Columbia  A5531) 
Walnut  waste  basket  above  desk  L. 
Windows  C.  to  be  broken. 
Hall  clock  effect  off  R. 
Large  hat  rack  off  R.  arch 

Large  bundle  of  letters  off  R.  stamped  and  post- 
marked 
Newspapers  on  table  R. 
A  push  button  to  ring  phone 
Bell  box  with  ferns  in  window  L. 
Electric  door  bell  to  ring  off  R.  with  push  button 

outside  door  R.C. 
Buzzer  on  desk  L.  to  ring  off  R. 
Newspaper  for  Bellamy- 
Money  for  Bradshaw  (paper) 
Small  black  Valise  (Woman's) 
Green  window  shades  on  both  windows  L.C.  and  L. 
Large  painting  of  Magdalene  and  the  Saviour  over 

mantel 

ACT  n 

Empty  vase  on  desk  L. 

Fresh  bouquet  of  flowers  off  R. 

Calling  card  for  Blanche  Dumond 


96  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

Newspaper  for  Judge  Bascomb 
Small  (ladies)  bag  for  Bess 
Cigarettes  and  matches  for  Paul 
Large  roll  of  money  for  Paul 
Note  book  and  record  blank  for  Burke 

2  suitcases  for  Paul 

ACT  III 

Revolver  in  cabinet  of  mantel 
Music  stands  off  L.  for  band 
A  basket  of  padded  stones  for  mob 

3  leaded  wires  to  break  windows 
Organ  and  stool  off  L. 

LIGHTING  PLOT 

I  Circuit  Frosted  White  Foots 
I  Circuit  Frosted  Pink  Foots 
I   Circuit  Frosted  Amber  Foots 

No  Borders  used 

Brid,ee  himg  in  place  at  first  Border 

3  Baby  spot  lamps  on  bridge  which  must  be  wide 

enough  for  men  to  lie  on  facing  audience  and 

work  lamps  under  ceiling 
The  Center  Baby  is  used  on  Magdalene  only  and 

always  with  Light  Straw  Color 
The  Left  Baby  is  trained  on  desk  chair  and  works 

on  Bradshaw  only  with  steel-blue  color 
The  Right  Baby  trained  on  picture  of  Magdalene  in 

Act  I  to  work  at  cue 
Steel  Blue  Act  3  it  is  used  to  cover  Bradshaw  and 

Bess  at  window  L.C. 
In  Act  II  the  three  work  through  act  until  finale  as 

Floods  light  Straw  table  lamp  on  desk  to  work 

on  cue 
Brackets  on  walls  at  back  of  room 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  97 

2-lamp  amber  strip  in  doorway  R.LC. 

TO  lamp  Frosted  white  strip  over  arch  R.C. 

T  000— watt  bunches  at  window  L.C. 

Baby  spot  steel  blue  at  window  L.C. 

These  lamps  are  dark  hue  in  Acts  I  and  III  and 
straw  in  Act  II 

Baby  spot  in  fireplace  R. — Pink  works  Act  III 

Fire  erate  with  red  lamps  covered  with  glass  for 
glow 

Everything  used  in  this  performance  in  the  way  of 
lights  must  be  on  independent  dimmers  to  work- 
separately 

LIGHT   PLOT 

ELECTRICIAN  ON  STAGE 

MOONLIGHT  IN  GARDEN 

ACT  I 

When  Otto  goes  to  street  door — Hall  lights  out. 
When  Bradshaw  falls  asleep  on  table — Table  lamp 

dims  S'owiy  out. 
When    Magdalene   puts   hand   over   lamp — Tablie 

lamp  comes  back  up  to  full  on  dimmer. 
When  curtains  are  closed — Blue  strip-lights  down 

and  out  on  dimmer  in  Garden-Blue  baby  spot 

through  street  door. 

ACT  II 

SUNLIGHT  IN  GARDEN 

At  finish  of  Act — At  Ctte  Loud  Martha —  All  stage 
lights  out  on  dimmer  on  count  of  four  (4)  At 
second  curtain  lights  full  up. 


98  THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

ACT  III 

MOONLIGHT  IN  GARDEN 
Fire-grate  and  table  lamp  on  same  dimmer. 
Fire-elow  in  fireplace  on.    On  dimmer. 
At  Cue  When  Otto  runs  into  hall — Hall  li.sfhts  out 

when  curtains  are  closed  strip  lights  down  on 

dimmers  to  7-8%. 
At  Cue  Stop  I  need  no  prayers  from  such  as  you — 

Baby  spot   on  window   J4   down   "  deep   Blue 

medium." 
At  Cue  Go  to  your  room  and  may  God  forgive  you 

as  I  do — Dim  fire  glow  out  slowly. 
When  Bradshaw  closes  curtains — Dim  Blue  Baby 

on  window  down  and  out. 
At  Cue  ''  Woman  in  God's  name  who  are  you?  " — 

Dim  table  lamp  and  fire  grate  out  on  count  of 

fifteen. 
When  Magdalene  disappears  and  applause  has  died 

out  count  nine  slowly — and  start  table  lamp  up 

to  full. 
At  Cut  Turn  on  the  lights — Hall  lights  up  when  Mr. 

Bradshaw     pushes     on     szvitch — Foots     and 

Brackets  on. 
At  Second  Curtain  call — All  stage  lights  out. 

ELECTRICIAN  ON  SWITCH  BOARD 

"  Foots  only  "  Light  amber — Frost — frost  pink. 

Foots  up  full  at  opening. 

When   Otto    turns    out   large    table    lamp — Foots 

down  J4- 
When  Otto  pushes  switch  plate — Foots  out. 

ACT  II 

Foots  full  up — Brackets  out. 

At  Cue  After  Bradshaw  goes  up  stairs.    At  Loud 


*   m 


THE  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE  99 

Martha!     Foots  out. 
At  Second  Curtain — Foots  full  up. 

ACT  III 

Foots  full  up — Brackets  on. 

At  Cue  "  Otto  turns  out  the  lights "  Foots  and 

Brackets  out  as  Otto  pushes  switch  plate. 
JVhen  Mrs.  Bradshaw  pushes  switch — Foots  and 

Brackets  up. 
At  Second  Curtain  foots  and  brackets  out. 

RIGHT  BRIDGE  LAMP  NO.  i. 
ACT  I 

Blue  spot  comes  up  slow  as  table  lamp  goes  down  on 
count  of  six  and  right  down  on  count  of  six. 
Lamp  comes  on  ^. 

(On  Magdalene  Picture) 

ACT  II 

Flood  on  couch — Straw  and  frost. 
At  Cue  Leave  this  house  and  never  enter  it  again — 
Blind  lamp  out. 

ACT  III 

When  Bradshaw  opens  curtains — Blue  spot  through 
windozv.  When  curtains  are  closed  blind  lamp 
off  quick. 

CENTER  BRIDGE  LAMP  NO.  2 
ACT  I 

At  Cue  When  Magdalene  places  hand  over  table 
lamp  comes  up.    Pin  spot  on  face. 

At  Cue  "  Will  you  believe  me  now  *'  after  cloak  is 
throzvn  off  enlarge  spot  to  cover  her  up.  Keep 
spot  on  until  second  curtain  then  off  quick. 


iw    irm  ETERNAL  MAGDALENE 

ACT  II 

Open  Act  with  flood  on  table.  "  Straw  and  Frost " 
At  Cue  "  Leave  this  house  and  never  enter  it  again 

— Blind  off  lamp. 
At   Cue   "  This  House  is  accurst "   face   spot   on 

Magdalene  until   "Repeat"  on  curtain   calls. 
ACT  III 
At  Cue  "  Turn  out  the  lights  Otto  "  Face  spot  on 

Magdalene  until  exit  Blind  off  quick. 
At  Cue  ''Not  that,  not  that,  please"  Face  spot  on 

Magdalene. 
At  Cue  ''  /  am  the  Eternal  Magdalene  "  (After 

Black  Cloak  is  off)  Spot  to  cover  her  up. 
When  Magdalene  turns  and  throws  up  her  hand 

Spot  off  quick. 
Repeat  on  curtain  calls. 

LEFT  BRIDGE  LAMP  No.  3 
ACT  I 

When  table  lamp  comes  up  on  dimmer  Blue  spot 
on  "  Bradshaw  "  up  on  dimmer  to  ^  keep  On 
until  curtain  hits  floor — blind  off. 

ACT  II 

Floor  Lamp  "  Straw  and  Frost "  on  table  until  cue 
Leave  this  house  and  never  enter  it  again — Blind 
lamp  off  quick. 

ACT  III 

At  Cue  Hear  them  coming  nozv — Blue  spot  ^  on 
Bradshaw,  following  him  until  cue  "  Go  to 
your  own  room  and  may  God  forgive  you  as  J 
do — Steel  spot  over  to  Bradshaw's  chair. 

At  Cue  ''I  am  the  Eternal  Magdalene"  Dim 
slowly  down  and  out. 


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